


For Ages to Come

by sturms_sun_shattered



Series: Rito Chronicles [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action, Angst, DLC Spoilers, Drama, Existential Angst, Fate & Destiny, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild sexual situations, Worldbuilding, divine intervention, harsh punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 66,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturms_sun_shattered/pseuds/sturms_sun_shattered
Summary: Vah Medoh circles above Rito Village as Kass sets down at Rito Stable with a song to commit the legends to memory.  The village above struggles on.
Relationships: Amali/Kass (Legend of Zelda), Harth & Amali, Kass & Teba (Legend of Zelda), Saki/Teba (Legend of Zelda), Teba & Harth, Teba & Rito Warriors
Series: Rito Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757296
Comments: 48
Kudos: 39





	1. A Song for the Ages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter overlaps with chapter 6 of 'Turns our Hearts' and picks up meditations on destiny that Kass had in chapter 30 of 'Age of Intolerance'. I don't think reading either is strictly necessary, but I think that some of the future developments will be more rewarding if you have read either or both.

Kass arrived at Rito Stable in the earliest hours of the morning. He had seen Vah Medoh circling the region from a great distance, but as he looked up at the gargantuan glowing beast from below he was awestruck. He watched for a while as it made its way in passive flight around Rito lands before he sat down by the cooking pot to recover from his long flight. He pulled out a leather bound journal and squinted at his teacher’s notes in the dim light.

“Kass?”

Kass looked up to see Ariane with a pitchfork in her hands. He hadn’t noticed her mucking out in the pale dawning. 

“Good morning,” said Kass.

“Did something happen? Why are you down here?”

“Oh...this is rather awkward...”

“Never mind...you don’t have to say anything,” she backtracked.

“I’m on a bit of a mission,” Kass told her anyway.

Goddess, that sounded bad. So far, trying to explain that he had taken up his Sheikah teacher’s notes and apparently divine responsibility had been met with laughs and rude gestures. Kass did not care much about the opinions of strangers, but those that he knew were bound to worry about his sudden turn from agnosticism to a belief in predestination.

“Oh.”

“I expect to meet someone here,” Kass said.

“Of course,” she said, “let me know if there’s anything you need.”

As the sun rose Kass stared up at the village and longed to go to his family, but he feared if he crossed those bridges that he might never again leave. Though Olin was no longer around to extract from him his vow to visit the sites in his journal, he had promised Impa that he would see this through. Kass had begun to suspect that perhaps there had been some divine guidance that led his teacher to rescue him as a child, and he supposed he was bound to honour that. 

The thought that some hand of fate guided them all was not comforting to Kass. He had long grown settled in the idea that life was made up of the randomness of the universe. If things happened because people willed them to or by accident then Kass could accept the losses he had suffered in his life. The idea that things happened for a reason was not comforting to him; it meant that he stood here at the behest of a capricious deity and those who had been lost were by her will as well.

As the world grew brighter, Kass picked up his accordion, hoping that he could distract himself with music. He had not even played a single note when Ariane pointed at the sky and the Hylians who milled about the stable stared up at Vah Medoh in horror.

“Oh Goddess! They’re really going to do it!” cried Ariane.

“Who? Do what?” Kass asked her.

“Were you not at the meeting?”

“I’ve been away for nearly a moon’s turn,” said Kass.

“The First Warrior and the bow-maker! They said they were going to go up there!”

“Oh no,” Kass breathed.

Teba and Harth would have no chance against Vah Medoh. When Kass had played at Foothill Stable, he had heard tell of what had happened against Vah Rudania and it seemed that the Hylian Champion was the only one who might fare favourably against a Divine Beast.

 _Goddess_ , Kass prayed silently, _if you do indeed hear our mortal words, spare them. They are foolish, it is true, but they are not deserving of death._

Kass shaded his eyes with his wing and tried to spot the warriors, but saw only their bomb arrows deflecting off of beast’s shields. After a particularly large explosion, Kass was horrified to spot one of them falling from the sky—Harth, Kass realized as he fell, spinning on his wounded wing and trailing smoke. Teba swooped in before Harth plunged down into Lake Totori, and the two careened inelegantly beyond Kass’s vision.

The Hylians at the stable expressed their horror in gasps and murmurs. Kass pushed off from the ground to see what he could see from a higher vantage point. He perched atop the horse god effigy on top of the stable and scanned the distance. As he readied himself to fly in their direction, his feathers suddenly stood on end.

_Stay put. You have a duty to attend to._

Kass turned to look for the speaker, but found no candidates at that height. The voice had sounded remarkably like his teacher’s—not the way he had sounded as he grew old and decrepit—but with the clarion tone of youth. Shaken, Kass drifted down to the ground. There, Gesane had come from his post on the bridge to ask the Hylians what they had seen.

“Kass?” he asked in clear surprise to find him at the stable.

“I think they landed near the Warbler’s Nest,” Kass reported.

“Thank you,” said Gesane.

Gesane took flight back towards the village, perhaps to get help in the search. Kass noticed Ariane watching after Gesane; it was hardly the first time he had noticed that there was something between them. 

He pulled out his accordion and began to play; he needed the distraction is he was going to remain at his location.

oOo 

“I can’t believe you’re playing at a time like this,” Mazli remarked to Kass when he and Gesane had circled back to the stable.

Kass had been playing all morning, though he wanted nothing more than to help Gesane and Mazli recover Teba and Harth. He had tried to dismiss the voice telling him that he was to remain here, but every time he thought of it his flesh raised and he looked over his shoulder in paranoia.

“Poor Molli,” said Gesane, “first her mother...”

Kass paused his playing.

“Antilli?”

“She passed,” Gesane confirmed.

“I’m saddened to hear it,” said Kass, his heart heavy.

“Maybe you should return to the village,” hinted Gesane before he and Mazli took off once more, “you may be needed if Teba and Harth...”

“Please find them in good order,” Kass insisted, ignoring his suggestion and recommencing his playing.

oOo

When Kass heard the flapping wings of a Rito setting down and the nervous stamping of the horses, he set down his accordion. Gesane and Mazli had returned with their quarry. Harth held his head and sat down on a stool near the cooking pot. Kass could see his misery as gripped Teba’s wing. There was not a time in recent memory when Kass could recall either of them looking so dreadful; both were covered in dried dirt and grass and their feathers were mussed and slicked with blood.

Those who drifted about the stable stood frozen for a moment, their expressions suggesting that they had not expected to see Teba and Harth return alive.

“Goddess...we thought you had fallen to your deaths,” Ariane whispered, breaking the silence.

“And you just went about the day as normal...” Teba said, his eyes narrowing at Mazli and Gesane, “and what took you two so long?”

“If you must know,” said Mazli, carefully stepping out of Teba’s wingspan, “we were trying to locate your bodies—don’t hit me!”

Mazli flinched and lifted a wing to protect his face, while Harth pulled Teba back.

“Teba, get a hold of yourself,” Kass warned, stepping between the First Warrior and the jumpy guard.

“Stay out of this, Kass!” Teba snapped, his brow furrowed.

“Look at yourself,” Kass implored, “you’re covered in blood. Is that how you want to return to your wife?”

“It’s mostly his,” Teba grumbled, glancing at Harth.

“Mazli, you should tell everyone that Teba and Harth are still with us,” Kass said.

Mazli did as he was told without hesitation. Kass hoped that removing him from the situation would help Teba curb his temper and keep Mazli out of harm’s way. Not to mention, he was sure Saki must be absolutely sick with worry.

“I’ll fetch some water,” said Ariane, no doubt trying to escape the tension of the situation.

Teba huffed angrily and stalked off behind the stable. With a glance back at Teba, Gesane returned to his post on the bridge.

Kass saw Harth was still shaking and sat down next to him by the cooking pot. While his fall had no doubt caused most of his visible distress, Kass could see the familiar distant gaze of one drowning in grief. He wanted badly to to reach out to him, but he knew Harth would not thank him for it.

“Here, it’s hot,” said Ariane, handing Kass the bowl.

Kass thanked her and wet the cloth in the steaming water. Harth had a nasty gash at the back of his head which was almost certainly the source of the blood which stained Teba’s wings.

“May I?” he asked Harth.

“Knock yourself out,” Harth mumbled.

Harth flinched under Kass’s touch as he carefully cleansed the grit from the sticky wound, but he did not offer a single word of complaint. Harth was far more cooperative than Kass had ever known him to be, and that concerned him.

“I’m so sorry to hear of Antilli’s passing,” Kass said as he gently worked the blood and dust from the dark feathers.

Harth stiffened and didn’t respond. Kass put a hand on his shoulder that was meant to be comforting.

“What are are you doing down here anyway?” Harth asked, as he shrugged off Kass’s hand, “your family misses you. Do they even know you’re back?” 

Kass sighed. He was bound to this task, exactly where the Goddess meant for him to be. He didn’t know how to explain that to anyone, let alone Harth.

“I’m afraid if I return to them now...I won’t be able to finish what I’ve started...” Kass attempted.

“What could be more important than you going back to your family?” Harth asked crossly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I was protecting the village!” Harth protested.

Kass was irritated with Harth’s explanation, especially since it appeared that the Divine Beast seemed to be minding its own business when not under fire. Harth looked at him expectantly and Kass struggled to put it into terms he would understand. He had to make Harth understand the importance of his task or he might give him away.

“This might be strange to say,” Kass hesitated, “but I have a sort of _preordained_ part in this...”

“Preordained? A preordained part in what exactly?” Harth asked shaking his head in confusion.

“There’s something on the way—”

“Goddess, I hope it’s help,” Harth muttered.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can explain—” 

Thankfully, Kass did not have to. At that moment, Teba returned. His expression was severe, but his feathers were no longer stained with blood and dirt.

“Let’s go, Harth. We don’t want the whole village coming down here. Kass?” he said expectantly.

“I’m sorry. I can’t join you,” Kass said, though he sorely wished to.

“Fine. Gesane! Lend us a wing,” Teba shouted to the guard.

“Kass, whatever you’re doing...just be careful,” said Harth as he took Teba’s wing with a wince.

Kass could not recall a time when Harth had ever expressed any concern for his well-being. The warning made his heart ache; what else would he be sent to do before this was all over?

“Take care of yourself. Please, don’t mention I was here,” Kass requested.

“I won’t bring it up, but I’m not going to lie if someone asks me directly,” Harth said flatly.

“I understand,” agreed Kass.

“Enough, let’s go,” Teba grumbled.

Kass watched the two of them as they set out for the bridge and desperately wanted to follow. He watched as Teba leapt from the bridge and flew toward the Flight Range.

“Stubborn fool, you’re going to get yourself killed,” Kass whispered, wishing desperately that he could shake some sense into Teba.

“Kass, if you’re staying...do you want a bed?” asked Ariane.

“I’m alright,” he sighed, sitting down by the cooking pot.

Now that the other Rito had left, Kass felt strangely alone again. He rested his eyes as he sat by the fire, dozing off until sometime in the early morning. As the sun rose, Kass began to play his accordion to pass the time. As he played, he began to wonder if this was some kind of trick; perhaps he was in the wrong place.

Just as he was about to give into doubt and return home he saw a familiar face. It was the Hylian he was growing certain was the same Link from his teacher’s diary.

“Greetings friend,” said Kass, “might I play you another verse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve been sort of playing with the concepts of fate and destiny for a while in this series because I don’t like the idea of coincidence. The knowing way that Kass talks to Link when he returns to Rito Village and Champions’ Ballad DLC makes me think that Kass knows more than he lets on through the entire game. This story isn’t just about Kass...or even mostly about Kass...but I started out with him because of where he was at the end of the last two Rito stories I posted.


	2. Lights Over Tabantha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rito in the village fret about the attack on Vah Medoh.

“I wish he was here,” Amali said as she stared at the cooking pot.

Looking up at the Hylian’s surprised expression, she immediately regretted sharing her innermost feelings with a stranger. The sun had just set and she had spent the day trying to soothe the fears of her daughters. All five had become quite anxious with nowhere to go while Vah Medoh circled above.

“Your husband,” the Hylian said solemnly.

“Yes...he’s on a pilgrimage to honour his late teacher,” said Amali.

The Hylian nodded.

“You’re a traveller...you haven’t seen him have you? Tall, blue plumage, plays the accordion.”

The Hylian’s expression grew shifty.

“Goddess, you have,” breathed Amali.

His eyes darted involuntarily down toward the stable.

“Is he really at the stable?” Amali asked, seeing how he caught himself.

“I-I’m sorry I bothered you,” mumbled the Hylian as he backed out of the kitchen and ran up the boardwalk.

Amali stared after him, her beak open in shock. How could Kass only send a letter warning her that he would be away and not even come home when he was so nearby? Amali wrapped a wing around herself and covered her beak. Noticing movement in her roost out of the corner of her eye, she turned to see Kotts sliding from her hammock.

“You get back in your hammock this instant!” Amali said sharply.

Kotts ignored the directive and wandered from the roost to the kitchen.

“Is Papa gone forever?” she asked.

“No. Did you have a bad dream?” Amali asked, her patience wearing quite thin.

“I just heard you talking...”

Amali scooped her up in her wings and carried her back to their roost. She tucked Kotts back into her hammock and ran her beak over her yellow crest.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Amali told her firmly.

“Could Medoh eat him?” Kotts asked sadly.

“Medoh doesn’t eat Rito, or anyone else.”

“Molli said her dad got hurt...”

“Molli’s dad is alright,” said Amali, “and your papa would never go near Medoh.”

Kotts nodded, but her little face was still darkened with a pout. Amali smoothed her blankets and stroked her feathers until she fell asleep.

When the roost was once more filled with sleeping chicks, Amali spotted Harth and Saki had in the kitchen. She slipped silently from her roost to join them, longing for company to keep her mind from her worries. Harth was looking rather better than he had after he returned from his fall, though his wing was still bandaged. As she joined the two of them around the cooking pot, she saw their troubled expressions.

“Am I to assume by your faces that Teba has not yet returned?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Harth grimly.

“The Descendant said he would send him back here,” said Saki.

“Descendant?” asked Amali.

“The yellow-haired Hylian...he’s a descendant of the Hylian Champion of old.”

“Clearly, he was about as persuasive as we were,” Harth sighed.

The three of them jumped in surprise as Vah Medoh screeched above.

“Oh Goddess, not again,” said Saki, covering her beak as she broke down.

“I’ll get the kids,” Harth told Saki, running up the boardwalk.

“Mama!” shouted Kotts from next door.

Amali left Saki in the kitchen so she could comfort her children. Whatever was happening above reverberated through the roosts, which quivered with the sound of Vah Medoh’s cannons. It was just as when Harth and Teba had first attempted to subdue Medoh.

“It’s alright,” Amali told her children as they scrambled out of their hammocks and clung to her.

She crouched on the floor and wrapped her wings around them protectively as Medoh screeched and shot above. As she glanced back over her shoulder, she could see Harth running down the boardwalk. Molli was wrapped in his good wing and Tulin ran after him. Saki recovered herself and grabbed her son in one wing.

“Amali, we should leave,” Harth urged as the roosts shook.

“Where?” she asked desperately, overwhelmed with five weeping children.

“The stacks,” he said, wincing as he lifted Cree in his injured wing.

Saki grabbed Kheel by the hand and Amali held Kotts in one arm and bid Notts and Genli to hold hands as they followed Harth and Saki down the boardwalk. Rito were leaving their roosts in panic but Amali was surprised to see a sea green Rito running up the boardwalk towards her. Time seemed to slow for a moment as she shook her head and realized it was Fyson.

“Amali, do you need help?” Fyson asked.

“Take Genli,” Amali said.

She scooped up Notts as Fyson took Genli and they followed the throng of Rito to where Mazli directed them out toward the salmon pond. As they came to a stop, Fyson leaned back against the rocky outcrop, his wings wrapped around Genli as she clung to him in terror. Amali set Notts and Kotts beside him.

“Sit here and stay with Genik,” she told them.

“Who?” asked Notts.

Amali froze as she realized her error. She looked up to see that Fyson had a curious look of sadness—no, pity—upon his face at being called by his father’s name.

“Fyson,” Amali amended tautly, “stay with Fyson,” 

Amali searched the crowd for Harth and Saki. She pushed past Nekk to find Cree and Kheel crying together between the pond and the bridge. Harth crouched beside them, his wing resting on their heads in an effort to comfort them as Molli clung to him and Tulin sat dejectedly beside him.

“It’s alright,” he told them, “your mom’s here.”

“Mama!” sobbed Kheel as she and Cree threw themselves at her.

“It’s alright,” she said, wrapping them tightly in her wings, “everyone’s alright.”

Harth gave her an intense look as though he wanted to tell her something, but did not want to say it in front of the children.

“Saki?” she whispered.

He tilted his head toward the next stack. Saki watched at the sky, her wings pressed over her beak as Kaneli put a wing around her tense shoulders. Amali looked up at Medoh circling; the barriers were up but smoke trailed from three cannons. It was too far to see Teba, but the remaining cannon’s shots offered an idea of his flight patterns as it lit up the sky.

“I’ve left Fyson with the others,” Amali excused herself.

As she carried Kheel and Cree back to the other side of the stack she heard a collective gasp and Saki’s shriek. She looked up to the sky to see Teba descending. He flew erratically toward the Flight Range.

“Oh Goddess, please not Teba as well,” Amali whispered desperately.

She glanced back at Saki who leapt into updraft from the lake and set out for the Flight Range. Harth looked desperate to follow, but he held tightly to Molli and Tulin. The Rito stared at the beast which circled above for a long while before Kaneli made an announcement.

“Vah Medoh’s cannons have been destroyed,” he told them, “I believe we can return to our roosts in safety.”

“Harth,” Amali called as the Rito began to drift back to the village.

Harth looked overwhelmed; he had set down his own daughter to try and calm Tulin who wept inconsolably that his parents were nowhere to be found.

“It’s alright,” Harth told him, “they’ll return soon.”

“Come with us,” Amali insisted.

Harth nodded as he put a wing behind Molli to direct her back to the village. It seemed that Harth could not bear to be alone right now either.

oOo

Saki landed at the Flight Range with her heart in her throat. Teba sat at the back of the lodge with his leg outstretched, grimacing against the pain of his injury.

“Teba, you absolute gander,” Saki choked.

His opened his eyes and held out his wing to pull her close. He buried his face in her shoulder and Saki was astounded to hear him weeping. She pulled back and held his face in her hands.

“Goddess, how bad is it?” she asked, cold fear running through her.

“It’s only my leg, I’m alright,” he gasped, scrubbing his wing across his face.

“I haven’t seen you like this in years...just let me look,” she said.

“I’m so sorry, Saki,” he said as Saki carefully took his leg.

Saki was not ready for his apology. He had left her for two days for his fool’s errand, and since Medoh’s return he had spent far more time holed up at the Flight Range with Harth than he had anywhere else. She suppressed her anger for the moment and focused on her husband’s injury. She plucked away Teba’s singed feathers and brushed back the undamaged ones to examine the wound. He bore it all without complaint.

“You look about as good as Harth,” she told him.

“Saki, please...”

“Where do you keep your supplies?” she asked, ignoring his plea and opening a chest.

Teba pointed to the one beside it and she pulled out a rather old-looking salve and a small roll of cloth.

“Don’t shut me out,” Teba begged as she treated and bound his injury.

“I am in no mood to talk about this,” said Saki, “I am relieved beyond anything that you are alive, but your apology comes after weeks of...this nonsense.”

“I am First Warrior. You know it could have been no one else!”

“I mean it, Teba,” Saki said, tying off the bandage with rather more force than was necessary, “just for once, I would like you to stay home and fret about whether you might be left alone to raise our son!”

He winced as she checked the tension of the bandage. As she stood to return the supplies, he straightened his fauld. Saki had to admit, Teba hardly looked his imposing self as he limped toward the landing unsteadily.

“I’ve left Tulin with Harth,” Saki said, offering him her wing, “I imagine they will both be eager to see us.”

oOo

The children were anxious when Amali and Harth returned to her roost. Amali convinced her own children to get into their hammocks and helped Molli into hers. Tulin was the most difficult to convince to rest. Nothing seemed to calm him as he sobbed that he had seen his father fall from the sky. Harth held him and walked up and down the boardwalk in front of the roost.

“He didn’t fall, he went to to the Flight Range,” Amali heard Harth assure Tulin as they passed by.

Amali was surprised by Harth’s gentle tone as he paced with Tulin in his wings. She had known Harth her entire life, but she had never known him to be either patient or parental. She wondered sadly if this was something he had begun to develop since the loss of his wife.

Eventually—after a great deal of walking—Tulin cried himself out and fell asleep against Harth’s shoulder. He let Amali take the chick and lay him in Kass’s hammock to sleep. 

Harth held his injured wing uncomfortably as he leaned back against the pillar outside of the roost. Amali came out to join him, watching for movement inside of the roost as she leaned back against the stone. She glanced at Harth and saw that he slumped with exhaustion.

“You did a good job with Tulin,” she said.

“Since Antilli...” Harth let his wife’s name hang for a moment, still unable to say aloud what had transpired, “Teba and Saki have done so much for Molli...how could I not do the same for their child?”

“You did a good thing.”

“I hate being left to wait,” said Harth, “Teba can take care of himself, but...”

“Now you know how we feel,” said Amali.

“It’s awful. I’m sorry.”

Harth stared out at the dark horizon. Amali was still reeling from him apologizing—even causally—for something. She imagined he hoped that Antilli would hear his apology for all the times he had left her to attend to his duties as a warrior.

“I think I finally know how our parents must have felt the night of the Collapse,” he remarked.

“I was so injured, I can barely remember,” Amali said.

She remembered the days after the homes on the upper pillar had peeled away in the windstorm. Her family’s roost had been badly damaged and her mother had been lost. She knew her father had been convinced that she would shortly follow, but she had fought through the pain of broken bones with her brother at her side and carried on with those who remained of her generation—Teba, Harth, Saki, and Antilli.

“I was terrified for so long after,” admitted Harth, “every time a board creaked I was awake. My father carried me like that so many nights...it’s why I thought it might work for Tulin.”

“I didn’t know that about you,” said Amali.

“I dunno, it’s weird when you’re a kid. You outgrow some of those terrors that keep you up at night and you never think about them again...until you do.”

Amali thought that it must be a testament to the fear that they had so recently experienced that Harth was being so open. They had rarely ever spoken without the company of their friends, and Harth was never so transparent when Teba was around.

“Harth. Amali.”

They turned to see Teba, his wing over Saki for support as he limped up the boardwalk.

“Teba,” said Harth, wrapping his wings around his friend in relief.

Teba bore Harth’s embrace with a stoic expression, though Amali saw him wrap one wing around Harth’s shoulders and held him tight. Harth kept Teba’s wing over his shoulders so that he might help him back to his roost so Saki could carry Tulin.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Amali told Teba, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Teba returned the gesture as Saki crept into the roost to pluck Tulin from the hammock where he lay sleeping. As Teba glanced at his sleeping son in his wife’s wings his expression wavered for a moment. Amali squeezed his shoulder, surprised by his sudden vulnerability. It was gone as quickly as it came and Amali let him go.

“I’ll come back,” Harth promised Amali as they headed up the boardwalk.

Amali retreated back into the roost and sat down. The voices outside had awoken Cree and she climbed from her hammock sleepily to curl up in Amali’s lap.

“Teba was hurt, wasn’t he?” she asked, as Amali covered her with her wing.

Here eyes were full of concern as she looked up at Amali—Cree was her father’s daughter through and through.

“Yes, but he will be alright,” Amali assured her, stroking her crest.

“But what about Papa?”

“What about him?”

“When I was scared I wanted him to make me feel better,” she said her voice quivering.

“I know, darling,” Amali said, “but you’re safe now.”

Harth slipped quietly into the roost to check on his own daughter.

“But where _is_ Papa?!” Cree suddenly sobbed.

No doubt, Cree’s sudden tide of emotions stemmed from the sleeplessness of the frantic night. As Amali soothed her daughter she watched Harth shift uncomfortably. Surely, it wasn’t Cree’s crying putting him on edge; she had seen him deal so calmly with Tulin earlier.

As Amali got Cree back to sleep, Harth returned to leaning against the pillar. After tucking in the little blue Rito, Amali joined him, but the atmosphere had changed. Harth tried to avoid eye-contact as she narrowed her eyes at his guilty expression.

“You knew,” she said.

“I don’t—”

“You knew that Kass was at the stable.”

“Amali—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He begged me not to,” said Harth uncomfortably.

“Goddess, Harth. I thought you had finally grown up.”

Harth just sighed and tried to stare anywhere else.

“In fact, I was beginning to wonder if maybe I had been wrong about you all of these years—”

“Amali, I really can’t stand for you to tear a strip off of me right now,” Harth interrupted her, pressing his fingers against the side of his head, “especially when you’re angry at Kass.”

“What?”

“Not that I haven’t deserved it...maybe I still do, but not for this.”

“You don’t think you deserve this?” she hissed, “after all the fucked up things you’ve said to me?”

“Keep your voice down or people are going to talk,” he warned her, retreating into the roost to quietly collect Molli.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” he said, retreating up the boardwalk, “feel free to come shout at me in the cold light of day.”

With Harth gone, Amali could do nothing but seethe.

oOo

By morning, Kass looked up at the great pillar in relief. Vah Medoh was perched quietly over the village and Link was on his way again. As he returned to the stable to collect his horse, he stopped for a moment to speak to Kass.

“Did you want to hear the song again?” Kass asked.

“Actually...I’m sorry...I didn’t know,” he said uncomfortably.

“What are you—”

“Thanks for your help,” Link said, glancing over his shoulder and kicking his horse into a trot.

“Wait, what are you—”

“Kass!”

Kass turned to see Amali drifting down toward him. Her expression was not a happy one. Kass had known this was a risk, though he had thought Harth would have given him away. He hadn’t expected the taciturn Hylian to be the one to let his secret slip.

“Amali...”

She landed in front of him, as livid as he had ever seen her. Kass took a step backwards as she laid into him.

“How could you do this? How could you stay here for two days without even coming up to see us? You’ve been gone for _weeks_!”

The stable guests who were sharing a meal by the cooking pot stepped back in alarm, visibly afraid to get between two Rito.

“Amali, let’s go speak somewhere,” Kass suggested quietly.

He reached out for her wing and she swatted him away.

“Please,” he said, trying to keep calm through the guilt and heartbreak that was tearing at him.

“Fine,” she snapped.

She stalked past the wood stores and he followed her into the forest behind the stable. She stopped when she felt that they had put enough distance between their argument and the stable and faced Kass, her wings crossed tightly. He could see her hands balled into fists and quivering with anger.

“Amali, I’m so sorry,” he said, awash in shame.

“Sorry? Do you know what happened last night?! We had to leave the village! I needed Harth’s help to get the girls to the stacks! _Harth!_ ” she repeated emphatically.

Kass wished he could have been there. The thought of his daughters afraid and weeping in worry of the chaos overhead when he could not dry their tears cut him to pieces. As he had watched the fight overhead the night before, he prayed every second that Hylia’s plan included the safety of the village.

“Your children have been crying for you!” Amali continued, “I can’t handle this alone. We vowed to do this together, and you’ve left me to deal with everything on my own while you get to go off and...I don’t even know what you’re doing!”

Amali covered her beak as a few angry tears slipped out against her will. Kass covered his own eyes to hide the tears building there. The more he committed to this pilgrimage, the more ashamed he became for leaving his family behind.

“I understand if you never forgive me,” said Kass, “but I couldn’t go back.”

“Why ever not?!”

“Aside from never wanting to leave you and the girls again?”

Kass leaned one wing against a tree trunk and swiped the other across his eyes. This was his wife, would she think he was going mad? Would she understand what he believed so intensely about this journey? What was the safety of Hyrule compared to the love of his family?

“Kass,” she sighed, “whatever it is, just tell me. If you really feel this way, I need you to help me understand.”

“The Sheikah...they believe that they have all of these roles that need to be fulfilled. That the Goddess guides them to their destinies so that the Hylian Champion might face his own destiny and defeat Ganon.”

“I know that the Sheikah have...strong beliefs,” she said, trying to be diplomatic, “I’m sure Olin raised you to respect them.”

“Perhaps to respect them, but he never believed them himself...not until near the end. And I certainly never believed that the Goddess Hylia was any more than some mythic figure...”

“If you don’t believe in this, why are you doing it? Your teacher is gone, what else do you owe to the Sheikah?”

“I do believe in this,” said Kass, “I have seen with my own eyes what he is capable of and...we keep crossing paths. This is more than mere coincidence, I can feel it in my bones. I’m meant to play a part in this.”

“Kass...this does sound very outlandish, you have to admit,” she said hesitantly. 

Some of the tension had left her, but she still stood back from Kass. 

“I realize that,” said Kass, “but there are so many unlikely events that have led me here...my entire tribe was massacred. Except for me.”

“Your mother saved you,” said Amali, trying to inject rationality into the will of the divine.

“But I could not get free of the bodies...on a rarely travelled stretch of road in a turbulent and impoverished region where Olin _happened_ to be travelling.”

“You’ve said yourself, that he had travelled through all of the eastern world in those days. It was a coincidence.”

“It has to be more than that. I was born in an almost illiterate tribe, yet I received a fine Sheikah education; I’ve travelled this world with Sheikah and Hylians alike, learning the terrain and how to get to the places where I must go...”

He trailed off. The look she gave him was something akin to pity. He found was not prepared to tell Amali about the voice he heard whenever he tried to stray from his course, given how fragile she already seemed to think his mind had become.

“I feel as though everything that has ever happened in my life has led me to this point,” said Kass firmly, “I must see this through.”

Amali cupped his face, her expression one of great sadness as she gently brushed back his feathers.

“I just don’t know how to do this without you,” she said quietly.

“You’re so very strong,” he told her, “you’ve never needed me for anything.”

“Well there was that matter of reproduction,” she said.

“I suppose I did contribute a little to that,” said Kass lightly.

“Do you really have to leave right away?” 

“Goddess, I wish I didn’t have to.”

Kass held her face with both hands and nudged his beak against hers. She drew him close and he was surprised when he felt her pulling loose the fastenings on his leather layer. His heart hadn’t raced like this in years. He glanced back at the stable.

“Amali, Hylians have a concept of privacy,” he said quietly.

“I believe I’ve mentioned that I don’t worry about the opinions of Hylians. Also, I’m quite angry at you and I’d like to have a proper goodbye before you leave me here again.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Kass said as he and Amali fell back into the piney grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you’re just tuning in now, I’ve been writing the dynamic friendships of Amali, Harth, Saki, and Teba throughout the Rito parts of the series and it is my absolute favourite. 
> 
> This was the most parental thing I’ve ever written...not sure if I like it...but all that complaining Harth did about wanting to be a father in ‘Age of Intolerance’...I think I just realized he really meant it.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Kudos are sweet, comments are life-giving.


	3. Goings On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gesane fears being ostracized; Fyson seeks help from an unlikely source; Teba and Saki have a heart-to-heart

Gesane stared up at Vah Medoh from where the end of the bridge met the mainland. Seeing it resting on its perch above the village in serene blue light, it was hard to imagine that only days ago it had shot Rito from the sky and screeched in such a deafening tone that the very pillar shook with its voice. As he stood watch, he sometimes thought he could see a lambent green spectre when he looked up at night, but he saw no such light this evening.

“Gesane.” 

Gesane turned to see Ariane leaning back against the pale rocks near the sign that pointed the way to the village.

“I still have to stay at my post, even if things have calmed down,” Gesane said.

“That’s why I brought you this,” she said, holding up two fish skewers.

Gesane accepted the skewer she held out to him and turned it in his hand, examining the crispy skin of the fish.

“These fish look as though they’ve come from elsewhere,” he said.

“They did,” she said, covering her mouth between bites, “the blond guy traded with the merchant and I thought I’d try them. Good right?”

“What is ‘blond’?” Gesane asked, still staring at the fish.

“Really?” she asked.

“How am I to understand all the Hylian descriptors if you never explain them?”

“Context...” she hazarded.

Gesane just stared at her.

“Yellow-haired,” she clarified.

Gesane tried the skewered fish. Ariane always cooked them a little too long, but he would never want to hurt her feelings by saying so, particularly after she had so kindly shared with him.

“They say he’s a descendant of the Hylian Champion from the time of the Calamity,” Gesane told her.

“Really? I guess he’d have to be to calm Medoh.”

They stared up at Medoh as they finished their skewers. Gesane cautiously checked his surroundings before he reached out to brush her bound hair off of her cheek. She suppressed a giggle at the feathers against her skin, her eyes and nose crinkling as she smiled. Gesane was met with the mix of delight and guilt he always felt when they touched.

“It’s the end of my watch,” said Gesane sadly, “I’ll soon be replaced for the night.” 

“You should come visit me after you report in,” she said.

“I don’t know if that would be wise,” he said reluctantly.

“Is it because of...what Lester said?”

“No...we just need to be more careful.”

“Well, I’m not exactly awash in prospects so...don’t worry, another time.”

Ariane looked down the bridge to make sure that Gesane’s replacement was not yet on his way. Satisfied that they were alone, she reached up to Gesane’s neck and he let himself be pulled down so she could brush her nose against the end of his beak. He closed his eyes as she placed her lips against his beak in a soft Hylian kiss and he wished this could go on forever.

“Goodnight,” she said softly as she let him go.

“Sleep well,” he said as he watched her take a few backward steps and turn back to the stable.

He tried to calm himself as he trudged across the bridge. Though they had been meeting for several moons, Gesane was still plagued by shame whenever he thought of the duty he owed to the dwindling Rito race. He had broken off his arrangement with Bedoli out of fear and guilt, but she had done little to move on from him. Kass had once assured him that in another age what he and Ariane were doing would have been perfectly acceptable, but Gesane knew—as they all did—that the Rito were on the edge of extinction.

By the time Gesane had reached the stack, Skovo was there to relieve him.

“Nothing unusual,” said Gesane, “even the monsters have seemed quieter since the Descendant came through.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Skovo as he set out down the bridge.

Gesane carried on across the bridges, his heart still heavy from the conflict between his responsibility to his people and his own happiness. Mazli caught him near the salmon pond. His beak was a little twisted where an injury was growing out and it made him look as though he wore a permanent smirk.

“Teba really rearranged your face,” Gesane remarked.

“Strangely, I’ve been told it’s improved my looks...I’m not really sure how to take that.”

“You doing a bit of midnight fishing?” 

“I was waiting for you,” said Mazli, as they crossed the last bridge to the foot to the village.

“Why? Have I forgotten something?”

“I heard a filthy rumour.”

“You know that filthy rumours usually get you into trouble,” Gesane dismissed him, “especially when you have the wrong end of the stick.”

“Well, this one’s about you,” Mazli said.

Gesane didn’t rise to what he assumed was some sort of tactic meant to coerce him into talking. He had had enough close calls to realize that the best thing he could do was to keep his beak shut.

“You don’t want to hear it?”

“I want to give Teba my report and go to sleep,” said Gesane, feigning disinterest as they stopped for a moment in front of the Goddess statue.

“I promise not to tell anyone else,” wheedled Mazli.

Gesane ignored the other guard as they climbed the stairs up the boardwalk.

“Alright, Fyson?” Gesane greeted the moody youth who stared out at the dark sky.

“Fine,” Fyson grumbled in response.

“That was actually pretty friendly for him,” said Mazli.

“I have to assume you meant to say that outside of my range of hearing, _Mazli_ ,” Fyson griped.

“Nope.”

“You shouldn’t antagonize him,” said Gesane when they were out of range.

“You don’t know because you’re out by the stable all the time. All he does is sit there.”

“I suppose that’s his own business.”

“Goddess, you remember back when we had no choice? You train as a warrior or...nothing because there wasn’t a choice!” said Mazli.

“Mazli, you’re far too young to start sounding like Nekk,” Gesane warned him.

They met Teba on Revali’s Landing. Normally, he would take reports at the guards’ post, but—in light of his recent injury—Teba had begun to take reports a little closer to home. He sat with his leg outstretched, but rose stiffly as the guards approached.

“Nothing to report,” said Mazli, preempting Teba’s question.

Gesane had noticed that for all of Mazli’s tough talk, the guard was still extremely uneasy around Teba. Gesane supposed he would be too if he was so often inclined to irritate the First Warrior. He had noticed that Teba had suffered from a much shorter fuse since Antilli’s funeral, but Gesane would certainly never suggest it to anyone else.

“Gesane?” Teba prompted.

“It’s been quiet at the bridge since that Hylian came through. It’s as though he’s taken all of the monsters with him.”

“And the stable?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re relieved,” said Teba, “sleep well.”

Gesane and Mazli headed for their roosts. As Gesane stepped inside his own, Mazli stopped at Gesane’s door. The twisted look he wore on his face had very little to do with the injured beak.

“What?” Gesane asked.

“Bedoli knows.”

“Knows what?”

“About you and the Hylian woman.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Gesane, though his blood ran cold.

“Sure you do. Goodnight,” called Mazli as he left for his own roost.

Gesane was afraid to even glance out at the stable, lest his longing gaze give away his secret. As he settled uneasily into his hammock, he longed for Ariane’s company to help him quell his fears. Wrapping himself miserably in his wings, he realized there was not a world where he could share a hammock with Ariane for the night.

oOo

Those Hylians were still hanging around. Not the one who had calmed Vah Medoh—at least that one had been interesting. The Hylians that were bothering Fyson were that newlywed couple. At least it was reassuring to know that marriage was a miserable institution in all corners of the world and across all of the peoples of Hyrule.

The two were arguing on the landing where Fyson had decided to sit and contemplate his future. At first he had found it amusing, but their theatrics were quickly growing irritating.

“You don’t know me at all!” Juney shouted, lifting a clay vessel.

“Whoa,” protested Fyson, getting to his feet, “violence is not the answer.”

“Stay out of this!” they both told him.

Fyson raised his wings and backed away.

“I’m just leaving so you have some time to cool off!” Fyson said, trying to save face as he retreated to the Slippery Falcon.

As he entered the empty shop he found Misa bent over the counter, recording inventory in her ledger with a quill.

“Have you finally come to help?” Misa asked him, looking up.

“When you’re so obviously swamped?” asked Fyson, looking around at the empty shop.

“Goddess, give me strength,” she muttered under her breath.

Fyson crouched down and pulled a chest from beneath one of the wares tables. 

“What are you looking for?”

Fyson didn’t answer as he lifted his late father’s swallow bow from the chest.

“I don’t think so,” said Misa, grasping his upper wing as he made to leave the shop.

“I’m grown, you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” said Fyson, shrugging her off.

“Only just. What do you think you’re doing with that?” she asked, glancing at the bow.

“Practise.”

“With whom?”

“On my own! Goddess, no one will even instruct me because you’ve scared them all off!”

“Good.”

“You know, Teba’s kid can out shoot me at the range because you never let me learn,” Fyson told her indignantly.

“Teba’s is a family of warriors. We’re merchants,” Misa said firmly.

“ _You_ decided we’re merchants. Dad was a warrior.”

“And look at where that got him, Fyson! Children of warriors don’t keep their fathers for long.”

“How can you even understand...” Fyson grumbled under his breath.

“I have lost a father, a husband, and countless friends to this idiotic ideal. I’m not about to lose my son as well.”

“I’m not trying to be a warrior,” said Fyson, “I just want to be able to do the things that Rito men should.”

“Rito men should be doing exactly the same as women; get married and hatch some eggs together.”

“Ugh, maybe we _should_ just die out.”

“You have a very narrow view of your duty to your people.”

“Well, you raised me,” shrugged Fyson as he left the shop with the bow in hand.

He made his way up the stairs, ducking his head and quickly skirting past the bridge to the shrine which now glowed a calm blue. He could see Amali on the landing near the shrine. He was still avoiding her after she had called him by his father’s name. 

While he had grown up close to Kass and Amali’s kids, he had always been uncomfortable when left alone with Amali. When he had asked about it, Kass told him that the sorrow of losing her brother had never really left her. As Fyson grew into his adult feathers, the painful looks which Amali cast in his direction made him increasingly uneasy. He always found it unnerving when people mentioned how much he resembled his father.

As Fyson took off from Revali’s Landing, he wished Kass was around. He desperately needed some guidance right now and his mother’s plans for him were not exactly the rational calm he sought. 

Fyson set down at Flight Range and strung his bow. He checked the chest for practise arrows but couldn’t seem to locate any. As he heard the sound of talons touching down on the landing, Fyson guiltily let the chest-lid drop shut.

“There something in particular you’re looking for?” came a voice from outside.

“Harth,” sighed Fyson, relieved that he had not been caught rifling through the Flight Range supplies by Teba.

“That’s not an answer,” said Harth.

“I need some arrows. I just wanted to practise.”

“Try not to take offence, but you’re not exactly skilled enough to be practising out here on your own.”

“I guess you should know; you trained me,” said Fyson snidely.

“One session does not a warrior make, no matter how good the trainer.”

Despite the irony of his words, Harth’s tone lacked the caustic quality which Fyson had come to expect from him. Fyson leaned back against the railing, hoping that their previous and only training session had inspired some sort of goodwill.

“So what are you doing here?” Fyson asked as Harth began checking the chests.

“Teba’s grounded, so he asked me to take stock of our supplies. Apparently, Saki is appalled by our lack of clean bandages.”

“Are you...very busy?” Fyson floated.

“In general?”

“Right now.”

Harth just lifted his eyebrows at him from where he crouched in front of the chest.

“I want to strike out on my own someday and I need to be able to defend myself,” Fyson explained quickly.

“Fyson, your best defence is usually to just fly away,” said Harth disinterestedly, eyeing a phial that looked off.

“Give me more training,” Fyson begged.

Harth stared at him, his eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Not a chance,” Harth scoffed as he returned to to sorting through the chest.

“I know you’re afraid of my mother,” Fyson wheedled, hoping to provoke Harth.

“Too right,” said Harth, “I’m not about to lose an eye on your account.”

“She’ll never know,” Fyson promised.

“Fyson—”

“Don’t you think my dad would want you to help me?”

Harth let out a gravelly sigh, his brow furrowed at the guilt Fyson was laying upon him.

“I think you’ve misinterpreted the nature of our relationship,” said Harth.

“You were warriors together,” pressed Fyson, “does that not mean you watch out for each other’s sons?”

“No,” sighed Harth, snatching Fyson’s bow from his hands, “but I will give you _one_ lesson—not for your father, because, frankly, he had a few choice epithets for me that were less than flattering—but because I’m relieved that you’re doing something other than sitting on that damned landing.”

Fyson could barely suppress his smile as Harth examined the bow for faults.

oOo

Teba was not going anywhere. Saki used to plead with him to stay home when he was injured, but this time she had not even suggested it. She used to fight with him when he would share his hard-headed ideas, now she simply nodded disinterestedly. Teba used to think that he wanted a wife who accepted the perils of having married a warrior. He was slowly beginning to realize that Saki’s acceptance came at the cost of her affection. He had not realized how much he would miss that.

“Still here, I see,” Saki commented disinterestedly as she returned from the stable.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Teba asked her, simply trying to keep her talking.

“Some of it.”

Saki set down her satchel and pulled out several bundles of dried herbs and a rough drawstring pouch. She wrapped them carefully in cloth as she set them in her chest. Saki occasionally visited the stable to haggle with the merchants for supplies for her elixirs, but Teba knew that they rarely had what she needed.

“Please speak to me again,” said Teba.

“We are speaking.”

“Is this how we’re to live the rest of our lives?”

“This is how I’ve lived my life with you up until this point,” said Saki, her hand still resting on the lid of the chest.

Teba hesitated.

“You would leave and do as you pleased, and I would stay here with Tulin. He doesn’t need us to watch over him every moment any longer. I’m just catching up on the things that need to be done.”

“You’ve closed yourself off to me...since Vah Medoh—”

“It was before that.”

“Saki...”

“We lost our friend, Teba. As usual, you hardly even noticed and you leave me to manage my grief in silence, but not just my own. I spent nights caring for a child that is not our own because her father was too broken to carry on, and I accepted that it was something that good people do.”

It was true that Teba had trouble expressing what exactly he felt about Antilli’s passing. There were few nights in Teba’s life that matched the misery of that sad night. He still could not recall Harth’s grief-stricken pleas without a painful emptiness hollowing his chest.

“Saki—”

“You wanted to talk, Teba. I’m not finished. You’re selfish. You want me to forgive you so that you can go back to carrying on as First Warrior, but this isn’t our parents’ time and you’re not nearly as important as the First Warriors who came before you.”

Teba bristled as the assertion, his feathers raised in annoyance, but he said nothing.

“If you really want to fulfill your duty to the village, be there for your village. Be a father to your son, and a husband to me...do _something_ for Harth other than putting him to work because I fear he is headed for an early grave. Quit trying to make your death as glorious as your father’s because you are still needed.”

“But not by you...” 

“We didn’t choose this,” sighed Saki.

“But we agreed to it,” Teba said quietly, “I’ve never been sorry for pledging myself to you.”

Saki clenched her beak as though she couldn’t say the same. He could not help but think bitterly that he had benefited far more from her than she him.

“I just can’t stand for you to keep choosing some unattainable notion of honour over me,” she said at length.

“Saki...all I thought as I returned to the Flight Range that night...was that I couldn’t leave you and Tulin behind.”

“We have so many more problems than this.”

Teba rose and tried not to limp as he came to her side. He reached out to brush her wing with his, worried that she might push him away if he initiated too much contact.

“The night that we lost Antilli,” he said, his throat burning a little at the memory, “I admired how strong you were. I didn’t know what to do...I so rarely do in such times...but you should have been allowed to give into your grief...instead, you were able to do for Harth what I was not. Far too much of this has fallen upon your shoulders and you shouldn’t be the one holding us all together.”

Saki’s beak clenched and she looked away, fighting back tears.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he told her.

She moved her wing to his waist and pulled him a little closer. He put his wings around her and pulled her close as he had not in so very long.

“Perhaps one day you’ll forgive me?”

“Perhaps,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly just following up on stuff from 'Turns Our Hearts'. The plot is not as heavily structured as the other multi-chapters in this series, but I keep feeling like I need to tie up some loose ends. I don't consider this the strongest fic in the series, but I feel like writing some Rito drama. I am heading toward a hopeful ending with this.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	4. All in a Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link makes an appearance in Rito Village, but mostly, it’s life as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like using the exact dialogue from the game because we’ve already read that...so I don’t.

“Kheel!” Amali called, her voice lost in the empty air between the landing and Lake Totori below.

Though Vah Medoh no longer terrorized the village, Amali worried about the hundreds of other things that could happen to a chick out on her own. She had a feeling that Kheel had gone to the Warbler’s Nest to practise her song. 

The Warbler’s Nest was not known to be frequented by monsters, but Amali still worried that Kheel was too young to know what to do if she ran into trouble. These days, Amali found she was often torn between swooping in to save them and letting her children learn things from their mistakes. She tried to remind herself that she had been quite independent at the same age, but she found it so much harder to allow them the same freedom.

Amali turned as she heard Hylian boots on the boardwalk. It was the Hylian Champion or Descendant or whatever he was calling himself. He cautiously came to stand beside her on the landing and she resisted the urge to shove him into the lake below. She supposed it wasn’t his fault that her husband seemed to be losing his mind.

“Someone lost?” he asked.

“My daughter, Kheel, went out to the Warbler’s Nest,” said Amali stiffly, “I don’t want to leave the village in case she comes back, but I’m growing concerned.”

“I can help,” he said.

“Why would you help?” she asked, surprised.

He just shrugged and leapt out over the water without a word, opening his paraglider above his head to drift out to the Warbler’s Nest. Amali watched him in astonishment until she could no longer see him on the mainland. He did not take long to return, but Amali was not rightly sure where he had come from when he joined her once more on the landing.

“She’s there,” he told her.

“Thank you,” said Amali, “how can I—”

When she turned to offer her thanks, he was already off down the boardwalk again. Amali shook her head. Surely, this young man’s manners were wanting, but it was kind of him to check on Kheel, she begrudgingly decided. It was not long before Cree came running past her.

“Mama, I have to meet Kheel! I forgot!” she said as she leapt out above the lake.

Cree’s flight faltered for a split-second before she righted herself and Amali pressed her hand to her chest, worried that her heart would burst right from her chest as it nearly did every time she saw the wind buffet one of her children.

“Hi Mama! Bye Mama!” called Kotts as she ran past Amali to follow her sister.

When Notts arrived, Amali was ready, and caught her by the wing as she tried to run by.

“Kheel is expecting me!” she protested.

“I know. Just remind everyone that they need to be back for dinner,” Amali told her.

Notts tended to be the most responsible of the five. Amali only hoped that she had the will to convince her sisters to return home before the sun began to set.

“I doubt Genli will want to eat. She’s making that scary Hylian cook her salmon meunière,” Notts told her.

“Don’t be a tattle tail-feathers,” said Amali, releasing the little red wing.

“Bye Mama,” said Notts as she spread her wings and glided out with a grace her sisters had not yet mastered.

Genli arrived shortly after, the Hylian following her as she dashed up the boardwalk.

“Wait,” said Amali, catching her by the collar and wiping a bit of sauce from her beak.

“I was saving that,” protested Genli, glancing back at the Hylian.

“I guess it’s mine now,” said Amali.

“Ugh, _Mother_ ,” complained Genli as she dove daringly down over the lake and swooped upward.

“Don’t fool around, Genli!” Amali shouted after her.

Amali turned to see that the Hylian had been staring at Amali and Genli’s interaction with a profound pain in his eyes.

“Link, is it?” she asked begrudgingly.

He nodded.

“You’ve been invited to their performance, I take it?”

Link nodded again, never sparing a word where a gesture would do.

“Don’t keep them out past sundown,” Amali warned.

He nodded once more—to Amali’s annoyance—and pulled open his paraglider to follow the chicks to the Warbler’s Nest. At least they would not be out there on their own, Amali thought.

She retreated to the cooking pot where she found Saki working on an elixir. Amali entered the stone-floored building quietly and peered at the reference book Saki had left open on a low shelf.

“This hasty elixir isn’t for you is it?” Amali asked.

“No, I received a request from the stable,” replied Saki.

“Bit of a slippery slope when you start taking those...”

“Hylians can do with their bodies as they wish. How many times have you witnessed them poisoning themselves with their distilled drink?”

Amali was taken aback by the acid in Saki’s tone.

“Saki, is everything alright?”

“It’s fine,” she said tersely.

Amali suspected Saki would maintain that she was fine if she was burning alive, but decided not to press the issue.

“I can help you bottle,” Amali offered instead.

Saki nodded and the two worked together to finish up the elixir and seal it into phials.

“Saki,” said Amali as her friend was about to leave, “don’t feel like you can’t share things with me. We’ve seen each other at our worst.”

“Thank you,” said Saki, taking her basket of elixirs with her as she left.

“Mama!” came the call of five excited little voices.

The girls pushed past Saki on the bridge to the kitchen, bobbing and chattering away.

“Mama you know our song—”

“—you’ll never guess what—” 

“—a shrine! An actual shrine—”

“—and he made it just come out of the ground!”

“—a _real_ shrine—”

“—all because of our song!”

Amali stared at her daughters as they all talked at her at once.

“My darlings, you know I can’t understand you unless you speak one at a time,” she said.

“Link played our song at the Warbler’s Nest and it made a shrine rise!” said Kheel breathlessly.

“The song from the elder?”

“Well, Papa found it,” said Kotts.

“What’s a monk?” asked Kheel.

Amali left the kitchen, the girls still chatting away as they followed her down the boardwalk. Amali stopped near the Brazen Beak to look out at the shrine which glowed blue at the Warbler’s Nest. She was sure that she had just never noticed it before.

“Alright, Amali?” asked Huck.

“That shrine,” said Amali, gesturing.

Huck blinked for a moment as though he couldn’t trust his eyes.

“Nekk, you ever see that shrine there before?” Huck called into the shop.

“Heh. That’s new,” said Nekk from inside.

“Huck, what’s a monk?” Kheel asked, only for her question to be ignored through the chatter of the other four.

“We told you!” shouted Genli excitedly.

“So you did,” agreed Amali, “come. Let’s eat.”

As Amali headed back up the boardwalk with her daughters, she wasn’t sure that she was ready to concede that there was any kind of divine intervention happening. Kass was free to believe what he pleased—even if Amali thought that the mission Olin had left him was misguided at best—but Amali still maintained the Link was a perfectly ordinary, if highly skilled, Hylian.

oOo

Harth stood on Revali’s Landing with his daughter and stared out at the tattered banners that marked the Flight Range. She had insisted that she was not interested in playing with the other children and had spent the day following Harth on his errands. He was not surprised when she wanted to join him at the Flight Range. 

He recalled the allure of the place when he was a child and how he had begged his father to take him with no success. In those days, the Flight Range had been a much busier place. Warriors of various levels had trained there each day, and when they were called to assemble there were nearly enough warriors—men and women—to stand the entire length of the ledge where it dipped beside the structure.

It was hardly likely to be be unexpectedly occupied now. The warriors who remained could sit around the cooking pot to meet and Harth was fairly certain that they were all currently occupied.

“Dad, is there a big bird out in the mountains?” Molli asked as she hopped onto Harth’s back and gripped his clothes.

“I dunno, what do you think?” trying not to let on that he was growing tired of this line of inquiry.

“Gramps said there was,” she insisted, her talons digging in under Harth’s leather layer.

Harth suppressed the sigh that he had just inhaled; Antilli’s father had had many strange stories, but Harth wasn’t sure why Molli was so fixated on this one.

“Perhaps it’s flown away. You ready, Acorn?”

“Ready!”

“Don’t let go.”

Harth spread his wings and pushed off from the landing. Molli giggled wildly as they dropped a little before the updrafts from Lake Totori helped Harth level out his flight. Though she was full of glee, he found he couldn’t help but spend the flight worrying about her; she couldn’t fly nearly as well as Tulin or any of Kass and Amali’s daughters. Granted, they were a few seasons older than Molli, but she seemed years behind.

 _Why should she bother to fly when you always carry her?_ asked that little part of his mind that sounded like Antilli.

Molli was still breathless with excitement as they set down at the Flight Range. Where Harth’s pain at Antilli’s loss was still a constant wrenching ache, Molli seemed fine most of the time, and he was grateful that she seemed to be bouncing back from losing her mother. 

For all Molli seemed fine during the day, Harth dreaded the flood that sometimes came over her at as he tucked her in at night. Sometimes, he held her and walked with her up and down the boardwalk, wondering bitterly how he had inherited not only his father’s business, but had also become a widower with a child as he had. Harth tried not to make these walks a habit, but those nights when Molli did not get the extra assurance, she would climb into his hammock with him partway through the night.

“What took you so long?” asked Fyson, his talons clattering on the landing as he swooped up from the Flight Range basin.

“You know, Fyson, I’m doing you the favour here,” said Harth irately.

“I _am_ grateful. Goddess knows if my mother finds out she’ll tear you wing from wing,” said Fyson.

“Reminding me of this is generally not the best way to go about convincing me that training you is anything resembling a good idea,” said Harth flatly.

“Sorry...it’s my instinct.”

“To be off-putting?”

“No, to warn people about Mom. You think I’m off-putting?”

“Fyson, just get yourself in order and let’s see you hit some targets; I haven’t got all afternoon,” sighed Harth.

Harth looked back at Molli—who played contentedly on the floor with with her dyed feathers, leather strings and beads—before he leapt into the current after Fyson.

“Keep your elbow up!” he shouted as Fyson drew his bow.

Fyson’s form was still terrible. Harth supposed it was to be expected, given that Fyson had hardly even held a bow until recently, let alone attempted to hit targets in flight. Fyson still had yet to hit one, but anything seemed better than his endless moping on the boardwalk. Harth had to admit, he also needed this distraction.

As they finished up, Harth was not sure they were making any progress. He tidied away some arrows as Fyson returned the practice ones from the bottom of the range. Fyson handed them over, his expression troubled.

“You did alright,” Harth assured him, as he packed them away, “as well as can be expected.”

“Harth,” said Fyson seriously.

“I’m not just saying that; you’re learning quickly.”

“It’s not...I...”

Fyson trailed off, his hands clenching his bow uneasily.

“What?” Harth prompted.

“I really need to to talk to someone,” he said quickly.

“Ahm...”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—I would talk to Kass but he’s—” 

Fyson ran the back of the wing across his beak. Harth had never had any such request before and the thought of having to dispense any kind of wisdom filled him with dread.

“No, it’s fine,” Harth said tentatively, “let’s just...sit down.”

Harth tried to remember how his father had approached these situations. He found as he tried to heal from his wife’s loss, that old ache had become inflamed as well as he tried to draw on some memory of his father’s unwavering strength.

“You know I want to leave,” said Fyson, sitting by the cooking pot with Harth.

“You’ve been quite upfront about that,” Harth acknowledged, as Molli scrambled into his lap.

“How do you go about it...you know, without a search party being sent after you?”

“Well, you can’t do it in secret,” Harth told him, “and you should go speak to the elder about your intentions. He’ll likely put conditions on when you need to return, but if you just take off—”

“My mother will start a riot...”

“Probably.”

Fyson rubbed at his beak again in agitation.

“She’s like that...because of my dad,” said Fyson finally.

“It’s hard to lose your spouse,” Harth said quietly.

“Oh, shit, Harth, I didn’t mean—”

“I can’t keep acting like it didn’t happen,” he said.

The silence hung between them. In his lap, Molli tried to weave her feather and bead creation through the ties on his leather layer. Harth tried to ignore the terrible pain in his chest; Fyson needed him to be the reliable one right now.

“Fyson,” Harth said, “your dad...we didn’t always get along, but I trusted him in battle. He took care of the people he was with, and I watched him make some tough decisions...I didn’t realize at the time how tough they were.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Do you know it?” Harth asked.

“All I know is...my mother can never forgive him for leaving that night and Kass can’t say a thing against him...I can barely remember anything about him.”

Harth looked down at Molli as she contentedly tied off the leather strands she had tangled in his clothes. He wondered if she would forget Antilli so completely by the time she reached adulthood.

“It’s a lot of pressure,” said Fyson, “to live in the shadow of someone that everyone treats like a saint.”

Harth could relate to that. As his life began to resemble his father’s, he felt himself wondering how his father had found it within himself to always be there, especially when Harth realized he had been nearly as clingy as Molli was becoming.

“Genik was just a person,” said Harth, “and I don’t think he’d want you to feel pressure to live up to how people imagine he was.”

“But what about...if I leave?”

“Assuming you have a real plan for what you’re going to do out in Hyrule?”

“Well...”

“Actually, I think he’d be kind of impressed.”

oOo

Teba had taken to sitting on Revali’s Landing to await the nightly reports from the guards. This was only partly in an effort to show Saki that he was serious about changing his ways. His leg still pained him badly enough that he did not want to be caught in combat until he didn’t feel so off balance, but even the injury did not account for the extent of Teba’s misery.

Since he had fought Medoh with Link, Teba had felt spiritually exhausted. In the days since that fateful flight, he had come to believe that his purpose had been fulfilled—that he had reached the pinnacle of his usefulness. The feeling did not sit well with him as he occupied the landing named in the Rito Champion’s honour.

As he heard Gesane and Mazli approaching, he stood. His leg seemed just as stiff and achy as it had the day after his injury. Saki told him it was healing exactly as it should, but he wondered if there was something that she was missing. He clenched his beak and tried to keep an even stride as he met them.

“Medoh really did a number on you,” observed Mazli.

“It’s fine,” Teba told him irately, “anything to report?”

“That Hylian couple staying at the Swallow’s Roost is getting to be a real pain in the tail-feathers,” Mazli told him, “have we really not considered closing to Hylians again?”

“Mazli, if you could actually remember that far into the past, I am certain you wouldn’t make such an ignorant suggestion.”

“As usual, you’ve misinterpreted the irony of my statement...”

“It’s a report,” snapped Teba, “save your embellishments for another time. Gesane?”

“Nothing to report, it’s quieter than I’ve ever seen it.”

“Well, don’t let your guard down,” Teba said, “we’re due for a blood moon any time now. Dismissed.”

As the guards left, Teba turned to look out at the lights of the stable below. Mazli had been getting under his feathers lately, and he did not wish to return home angry. He heard talons clicking along the landing and turned, ready to give someone a piece of his mind. He softened that stance a little when he saw that it was Harth.

“Did I wake you?” Teba asked, sitting down stiffly near the edge of the landing.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” said Harth, joining him, “I heard the sound of Mazli pushing his luck.”

“Smart-beaked bastard,” grumbled Teba.

Teba thought that Harth still looked somehow wrong. His expression wasn’t one of sadness exactly, but there seemed to be a permanent pain that had settled around his eyes.

“Harth, if you need something to sleep, I’m sure Saki can help,” Teba hazarded.

“I’m not talking about this,” said Harth.

Teba wasn’t willing to push it; he felt fragile enough himself right now. Teba stared out at the world across the lake as he and Harth sat in companionable silence.

“I took down her hammock,” Harth said in lieu of nothing.

Teba glanced over at Harth to see his beak clenched against the tears he blinked back. Teba just rested his hand on Harth’s shoulder. It was hard to imagine Harth would ever be alright again. Teba worried that perhaps Saki was right; Harth looked leaner than he had before and his plumage seemed to lack the lustre of vitality. He bowed his head and collected himself with a deep breath.

“How’s your leg?” Harth asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Healing,” Teba lied.

“You scared the shit out of me when you did that,” said Harth.

“I know.”

Harth didn’t seem to be expecting that answer and simply stared at Teba for a moment.

“Good. I’m glad you know,” Harth said finally.

“I would do it again.”

Harth’s expression was one of equal parts surprise and annoyance.

“Kaneli was wrong,” said Teba, “Link is capable, but he could not bring Medoh to heel on his own. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that I was meant to be where I am; the years of training, discipline...they were for this purpose.”

“Goddess, what is with everyone lately?” Harth complained, his brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“First, Kass is going on about some ‘preordained’ mission, now you?”

“Harth, if you haven’t noticed, the world has become a different place seemingly over night.”

“I noticed, _Teba_ ,” he said adversarially, “but this isn’t like you. Kass—he’s always been strange—but for you to think...what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Teba bitterly, “if that was my life’s purpose, it has been served.”

“Have you actually lost your mind?” asked Harth, “what of your family? Your role as First Warrior? You think your entire reason for being is a bit of fancy flying?”

Teba stared out at the evergreens that lined the lake. Harth made a noise of disgust and rose abruptly.

“And people say I’m the idiot,” Harth griped as he left Teba to his thoughts.

Teba sat contemplating his trajectory in life a while longer. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that his purpose had been served. It was not a comforting feeling. 

Just as he was about to get up, the motion of a Rito in flight below caught his eye. It was too dark for Teba to discern who it was by their plumage, but something about the motion of his landing near the rear of the stable made him think that it must be Gesane.

Teba could not suppress his sigh of annoyance. He was hesitant to interfere in the affairs of others, but if something was going on at this time of the night he would be expected to discipline the guard. Teba grit his beak against the ache in his leg as he rose. He could go home right now and pretend he hadn’t seen this. With one more glance back at the stable, he resolved to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dying for a comment...go on, make my day :)


	5. Kitano Bay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kass finds someone unexpected on the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve been here for the previous fics, I left a lot of minor characters’ stories hanging, but Mimo’s might be the one that’s most spread out. 
> 
> Quick Chronological Recap: toward the end of ‘Age of Intolerance’ Mimo was exiled after Teba accused him of cowardice (which Mimo did not deny). Kass gave him some maps and advised him that he could make a living as a messenger. At the end of Mimo’s exile, he was so changed from living among Hylians he didn’t want to return and sold out Frita’s location (Gerudo Town) to have the freedom to come and go as he pleased. He delivered the news of Olin’s passing (‘Age of Intolerance’/’Turns our Hearts’) and quickly left Rito Village. When he returned again with Kass’s message for Amali, his was targeted by Vah Medoh and suffered a leg injury. He stayed briefly in the village and the last we heard of him, Saki told Harth that Mimo had stolen all of her pain tonic and left the village (‘Turns our Hearts’).

The sun had shone hot in the cloudless sky all day as Kass played atop the lonely pillar in Kitano Bay. He was glad for the relief as it began to dip behind Ebon Mountain in the late afternoon, though the salty spray of the sea still stuck uncomfortably to his scorching feathers. Kass could not claim to be surprised when Link landed on the pillar behind him, his paraglider quickly folding with a soft _whoosh_ of fabric and wood.

“I thought that this might be a remote destination, but how fortunate that we meet once again,” said Kass.

So far, the Hylian had met him at every place he had stopped to play, no matter how isolated. The salty breeze tangled Link’s hair, and Kass thought he looked in rather better shape than when last they met, if a little pink-cheeked from the sun.

“My teacher wrote a verse about this place,” Kass told him.

Link nodded, perhaps expecting another one of Olin’s many compositions. Kass had found this verse on a page with a sketch of the very rock that he stood upon. Olin was not usually given to sketching landscapes, and Kass had stared at the page, wondering what had compelled him to take the time to do so.

“What do you suppose ‘17 of 24’ means?” Kass asked at the conclusion of the song.

Link glanced down into the water below and dove into the sea without warning. The unexpected action so scared Kass that he nearly dropped his accordion. Kass peeked over the edge of the pillar to see Link surfacing and climbing onto one of the smaller stones below, water running in rivulets from his sleeveless climbing shirt and trousers.

“Perhaps, for my sake, you could warn me before you do such a thing again?” Kass called down to him.

Link shrugged as he pulled out his Sheikah Slate. Kass watched in fascination as he used one of its functions to draw a chest from the seabed below and rest it carefully upon the rock. As Link opened the chest, Kass saw his reward was a gold rupee.

“I somehow expected more,” Kass remarked, landing carefully beside Link.

Link rang the seawater from his bandana and pushed his hair back before replacing it on his head.

“Have you been to the island out on the sea?” Kass asked him pointing to Eventide.

“Not yet,” said Link.

“I’ve not ventured out so far either,” said Kass, “perhaps one day.”

Link shifted as though he desperately wanted out of this conversation. Kass had grown used to Link’s restlessness, and hardly wanted to stand in the way of his mission.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Kass said, “may the light illuminate your path.”

With that, Link climbed up to the pillar and summoned the power of the champion Revali to produce a gale that allowed him to drift to the beach. Kass watched for a moment as he replaced his accordion in its case. It seemed his work here was complete, so he decided to return to that beach as well. Perhaps he might find where Olin had drawn this sketch and stand once more in his teacher’s footsteps.

As Kass flew over the beach, a dark figure on the sand below caught his eye. Kass circled and was surprised to see that it was a Rito. As he swooped down, the momentary excitement that he may have found some long-lost kin turned to annoyance as he realized who it was, then concern when he saw the way he held wings around his body and leaned back against a palm tree.

“Mimo,” said Kass, his talons sinking into the sand as he landed a wingspan from dark-feathered Rito.

“Kass...somehow the last person I wanted to see,” Mimo complained, tightening his wings around his body.

“Are you injured?” Kass asked him, cautiously crouching at his side.

“Just leave me to die,” Mimo hissed.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Kass said, cautiously reaching out to look beneath Mimo’s wing.

Mimo gripped Kass’s wing so hard that Kass nearly withdrew in discomfort. Mimo was shaking, but Kass could see no injuries upon him. Kass reached out a steadying hand to Mimo’s shoulder and he leaned into Kass, still shuddering.

“What happened?” Kass asked, panic rising in his chest at Mimo’s unusual behaviour.

Mimo grumbled something through his clenched beak.

“Speak up.”

“I’m out of pain tonic,” Mimo ground out.

“For what?” asked Kass.

Mimo clenched Kass’s wing harder and bent his head forward in misery. Kass wrapped his wing around Mimo’s shoulders and tried to calm him.

“You’re alright, it’ll be alright,” Kass murmured as he extricated his wing from Mimo’s grip.

Without Kass’s wing to hold, Mimo wrapped his wings around himself once more and pressed his head to Kass’s shoulder. Kass had never seen Mimo in such as state. The messenger usually shied away from contact on those rare occasions when Kass had reached out to him and Kass was not entirely sure how he should handle what was happening.

“Why have you been taking pain tonic?” Kass asked carefully.

“My leg,” Mimo managed, “Medoh...”

“Medoh has been pacified for the better part of this moon,” Kass informed him.

Mimo was no longer listening as he plucked at the feathers on the back of his wing in agitation. Kass could hear the chatter of lizalfos out on the water and glanced cautiously out at the sea. He knew they couldn’t stay so close to the shoreline.

“Don’t do that; you’ll damage your wing,” Kass told him, “I’m going to take you someplace safe to rest.”

Kass wrapped his wing around Mimo’s back and regretfully let Mimo take his hand once more as he hauled him to his feet. As they walked away from the shore, Kass could not tell if Mimo was favouring one leg over the other. He settled Mimo in the sparse grass that grew along the base of the mountains that loomed above.

“Mimo, may I look at your leg?”

“No!” said he in a panic, covering his thigh with his wing.

“You need to tell me what’s happening to you or I can’t help,” Kass nearly begged of the trembling Rito.

Mimo covered his face as he exhaled sharply.

“Did you drink any Hylian spirits?” Kass asked.

Mimo shook his head.

“Did you eat any rushrooms?”

“No,” Mimo sobbed.

“Wait...you were taking pain tonic. Did you have too much?”

“I didn’t have enough.”

“You’ve been taking for a while and now you’re out,” Kass realized, “your body has grown used to its effects and now it misses it. Am I correct?”

Mimo nodded through his shameful sobs and Kass found he was as irritated with Mimo as he was filled with pity. Mimo had been a pain in Kass’s tail-feathers as long as he had known him, but Kass did not have it in him to leave anyone—let alone one of the few Rito who remained in the world—to suffer.

“I don’t really know what to do for you,” said Kass, wrapping the blanket from his bedroll around Mimo’s shoulders.

“Just leave,” Mimo gasped.

“I think you know I wouldn’t do that.”

“You’ve always got to be... _ah_...so fucking noble,” Mimo complained, pulling the blanket around himself tightly.

“When did you run out?” Kass asked him, unrolling Mimo’s bedroll.

“Yesterday...wait, two days ago...”

“Alright,” Kass sighed, “just lie down.”

Kass helped Mimo settle onto the blanket where he curled onto his side, still clutching his abdomen.

“You must be very pleased,” Mimo griped, as Kass tucked his blanket around him.

“If you believe that, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Wait,” Mimo protested as Kass rose, “I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Kass assured him, “I must find driftwood for a fire since it appears I’ll be staying here for a while.”

The afternoon was growing into evening as Kass set a fire where the grass thinned out to sand. He arranged some stones so that he could boil some water in a metal cup for tea. Mimo stirred uneasily, not quite able to go to sleep but not entirely awake. Kass steeped some dried herbs from a cloth pouch, and when it had cooled enough to handle, offered it to Mimo.

“This is something Hylians drink,” complained Mimo, as Kass held one wing around him to keep him steady.

“Sheikah, actually. You may find it helps settle you.”

“It’s too hot,” said Mimo, pushing it away.

Kass took the cup and carefully set it on a bit of level ground. He was about to help Mimo lie down again when the trembling Rito leaned back against Kass’s shoulder.

“Do you want to just sit for a while?” Kass asked him.

Mimo nodded and closed his eyes and Kass shifted his wing a little so that he could reach his pack. As he held Mimo with one wing, he pulled out his teacher’s notebook to examine the sketch of the pillar in the sea. Kass held the book open on top of his pack with one hand.

As Kass looked out at the bay, he was struck with the realization that he had been here once before—it was one of the first places he had travelled with Olin. He had not recognized where he was at first because they had arrived on horseback on that long-ago journey, before Kass had even grown into his adult flight feathers. 

Kass examined the entries before and after the sketch: a long period where Olin wrote nothing; a list on brittle paper of places that Purah had no doubt asked Olin to visit, tucked between two pages; and nearly a year after, the verse from Rabia Plain. He realized that Olin must have sat and sketched this as he watched over Kass that first frightful time he had spent the night out-of-doors.

The grief that struck Kass was so sudden and so urgent that he felt as though his chest was caving in. He had not wept for Olin since he had left Kakariko Village, but he could not fight the sob that escaped him now.

“Kass?”

“Excuse me,” Kass told Mimo, letting him go as he stood.

Kass clutched the little leather-bound book tightly in his hand as he walked down the beach. He threw out a wing to catch himself against the rocks as he stumbled and broke down completely. He could hear his suffocating sobs echoing off the rock face and he found he didn’t care. He had not seen Olin in a decade, and he despised himself for never going back to visit the man who had taught him everything.

_You had your own life, my dear boy._

“That doesn’t make it right,” Kass told the voice, though he firmly believed it to be a figment of his grief-stricken imagination.

After a few minutes Kass calmed his breathing and wiped away his tears. He felt unburdened, but it was of a load he had not realized was weighing so heavily upon his heart. He stood, still catching his breath as he stared out at the moonlight shimmering off the rippling waves of the calm sea.

“What’s done is done,” he told himself as he returned to the camp, “you can’t rewrite it.”

Mimo lay on his back, his eyes closed and his breathing a little ragged. He couldn’t quite seem to stay still and shifted against the pressure of the sand on his back.

“What was that?” he asked, not opening his eyes as Kass sat down.

“Your tea should be cooled,” Kass evaded.

Mimo let Kass help him sit up once more, but he resisted Kass’s wing on his back as he held the tea in his shaking hands. Kass helped him steady the cup and Mimo cast him a dark look. Kass realized that Mimo probably felt betrayed after allowing himself a rare moment of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry that I left,” said Kass quietly, “I’ve been in mourning.”

“For Olin?” asked Mimo.

Kass thought bitterly that Mimo had almost certainly seen the old poet in the last year as he collected messages from the Sheikah.

“For what it’s worth,” said Mimo, “he seemed...well he was quite short-tempered with me...he always called me the by wrong name...that of a Rito who served at court before the Calamity apparently.”

Kass didn’t want to talk about this. He knew that Olin’s mind was not what it had been near the end, but he couldn’t bear to think of his clever teacher as disoriented with age. In his mind’s eye, Olin was always tall with wiry strength, both sharp-tongued and wise.

“This is the most articulate you’ve been since I found you,” said Kass, trying not to dwell on thoughts of Olin anymore this evening, “am I to take it you’re feeling better?”

“I feel absolutely terrible,” he said, his hands still shook on the cup beneath Kass’s.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Surely you aren’t delivering messages to a desolate beach.”

“I don’t do that anymore,” he said as he took a cautious sip of tea, “I was trying to get to the island.”

“Whatever for?”

“I fear I left the village in more disgrace than usual...I wouldn’t be welcome back, thief that I am. I thought I might go where I couldn’t be found.”

Mimo gritted his beak and pushed the remainder of the tea back to Kass. He curled forward in distress and clutched his leg. Kass set the tea aside and rested his hand on Mimo’s back.

“Let me at least see what’s wrong with it,” said Kass.

“It’s healed,” Mimo managed through his clenched beak, “it’s all in my head.”

“Why did you take so much tonic?” Kass sighed.

“It helped with the despair...until it didn’t,” he said shamefully.

Kass smoothed Mimo’s feathers and wished there was something he could do to make him feel safe.

“When your exile was over, why didn’t you just come home?”

“I’m less loved in that village than you are...”

“I imagine that depends on who you ask,” said Kass darkly.

“Who were your parents, Kass?”

“What?”

“Two tropical Rito that no one knows. It doesn’t matter whether they were married or outcasts or anything else. You showed up at the village with no history.”

“My parents were refugees,” said Kass softly, “my whole tribe was.”

“No one ever told me who my parents were,” said Mimo, “Kaneli once tried to tell me I was foundling, but the way people avoided me...they knew...I hatched with the stain of infidelity.”

Kass was not sure how he had never noticed this, though Mimo had seemed so often to fade into the background of the village. He had been so antagonistic toward Kass upon his arrival that Kass had made certain to avoid the younger Rito.

“I had no idea,” said Kass.

“Of course you didn’t...what’s in this tea?” he asked, reaching out for Kass to return the cup to his hands.

“Sheikah medicinal blend—settles your mind and eases your pain,” said Kass, “Olin left it among his possessions.”

“Thank you, Olin...I’d say we’re even for all those times you mixed me up with someone long dead.”

“You can have it if you believe it will help,” said Kass, “I find I’m not overly fond of it.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mimo was no longer shaking and shrugged off Kass’s wing.

“Your wife said I should meditate...”

“Did she?”

“Yes...I think I may try it...”

“It can’t hurt.”

The waves rolled in a peaceful rhythm up to the shore. Mimo toyed with the cup in his hands.

“I’m...sorry...for the things I’ve said and done to you, Kass,” he said after a long stretch of silence, “you’ve saved me at least twice.”

“Thank you for your apology, but I’m concerned this is the tea talking.”

“I think—in the interest of sorting myself out—I may go stay on the island out there,” he told Kass for a second time.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Kass dismissed him.

Subdued from the tea, Mimo passed Kass the empty cup and lay back on the bedroll. Kass set it aside and covered Mimo with a blanket. Mimo caught Kass’s hand and held on, though not so desperately as before.

“I’m going to keep you safe,” Kass promised, “just close your eyes and rest.”

“It’s so lonely out here,” he said.

Kass feared Mimo was about to break down and smoothed the feathers on his wing.

“Mimo, you can go back to the village,” he reminded him gently, “you’re not an exile any longer.”

“I never feel quite welcome there...even as a child. I don’t think I fit in...perhaps I never did.”

Kass knew this feeling well, but he desperately missed his family and was willing to put up with the nonsense of the village to be near them. Mimo did not have such ties to anchor him.

“Just rest for now,” said Kass, “there will be time to worry about such things tomorrow.”

oOo

Kass awoke the next morning as the earliest rays of sunlight glinted off the waves. He had not even realized he had fallen asleep as he sat in the sand with his back to the cliff wall. He glanced at Mimo, who was shivering in his blanket and staring at Kass.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said.

“It’s alright, you can wake me if you need me,” said Kass as he rubbed the salty sleep from his eyes.

“That tea...left me with some strange dreams.”

“That may not have been the tea. I take it you’re not feeling much better?”

Mimo shook his head.

“Might you be able to eat?”

“I’ll try.”

Kass saw at the cold ashes of the fire from the night before and wished he had had the sense to stay awake to tend it. He had a few pieces of driftwood from the night before—enough to get it going again—but he had to gather more to keep it burning. 

After the fire was burning, Kass flew out to the pillar in the bay to catch a few fish. He returned to the beach to gut them and cook them on sharpened sticks over the fire. He used the last fresh water in his water skin to boil another cup of Olin’s tea for Mimo, though he made it a little weaker than the night before.

Mimo was true to his word and finished his fish before he lay back down on his bedroll. The food seemed to settle him rather more than any other intervention Kass had attempted thus far. Kass placed the cup of hot tea beside Mimo and stood.

“We’re out of water,” Kass told him, digging Mimo’s empty skin from his pack, “will you be alright for a while?”

Mimo nodded and Kass placed his dagger beside Mimo.

“Just in case.”

Kass pushed off into the breeze and used the currents blowing out to sea to circle higher. He had seen a spring flowing down from the Stinger Cliffs when he had flown in this way the day before, and retraced his path to find it. 

The spring emptied into a basin tucked into a secluded rocky fold, shaded by a green-leafed tree. Kass filled the water skins directly under the cascade and set them beneath the tree. Uncomfortable with the salt and sand that had accumulated in his feathers, he shucked his salt-stained clothing and waded into the cold water. He scrubbed the water through his feathers to rinse away the grit from the beach.

As he emerged from the basin and shook droplets from his feathers, he found that he was growing tired of these travels. He closed his eyes as the shook the sand from his clothing, wishing for the comforts of home. It was funny, he thought as he dressed, how desperately he had desired to be out in the world again as he trudged through his daily life in the village. Now, he wished only to return.

Kass collected the water skins and returned to Mimo. The dark-feathered Rito had finished his tea and fallen into a slumber in the warm morning sun. Kass thanked the Goddess that the lizalfos that swam the sea had not seen fit to come ashore for a snack.

With little else to do, Kass pursed Olin’s notes.

 _When at first you came to me_  
_I feared you’d die there in my arms_

Kass flipped quickly past that page. He had read that old poem, a frank and heart-breaking retelling of when Olin had found Kass. Kass still could not handle the raw imagery of the unmoving bodies that his teacher had invoked. The sadness contained in those words were things that Olin would not have—perhaps _could_ not have—spoken aloud. Much of his poetry was a litany of unspoken heartbreak.

Kass turned to the end of the book, where Olin’s polished verses had descended into unfinished lines and scribbles in the margins.

_The Champions’ Ballads_

Kass flipped through the last pages where the margins were nearly full of notes like ‘Zora elegy,’ ‘Rito lyrical verse’ and ‘Gerudo epic.’ Perhaps most amusingly was the note under Daruk’s ballad which read ‘no written evidence of Goron poetic tradition (paper?) perhaps entirely oral culture.’ Kass laughed softly to himself; certainly the Gorons did not use paper, but they had plenty of written signs if the Death Mountain markers were any indication.

“Perhaps I could complete this for you,” Kass whispered.

Kass took his accordion a short distance from Mimo so that he would not disturb the sleeping Rito while he worked out music for Olin’s ambitious ballads. This task occupied most of Kass’s day, though he began to suspect he might need to do some further research to best honour the Champions.

Mimo awoke as the sky was darkening and sat upright under his own power. Kass returned to crouch by his side as he held his head.

“It’s not so bad anymore,” Mimo insisted as Kass passed him a water skin, “I think I’ve slept through the worst of it.”

It was clear that Mimo was a little ashamed by the situation he had found himself in. He shrugged off the wing that Kass rested on his shoulder in a return to his usual standoffishness.

“If you’re worried about me saying anything to anyone in the village, you needn’t,” Kass told him.

“Let them think that I’ve gone to my death,” said Mimo darkly, “yesterday I thought I had.”

For their evening meal, Kass cooked more fish on skewers until their skins grew crisp. They shared their meal in silence, and Kass fell asleep upon his bedroll before the sun had even set. 

The sound of the someone tending the fire roused Kass in the dark hours of the morning. He was relieved to see Mimo was up and about. He had caught a two red crabs on the beach and was roasting them over the fire on a skewer.

“Can I share my meal with you?” Mimo offered.

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Kass, though that small part of him where Olin resided admonished him for his picky eating habits.

Mimo sat down with a skewer in hand and pulled apart the crab shell with his beak. The eastern sky was brightening from the line of horizon that grew amber then gold with the sunrise. Kass watched the stars fade from the sky and Mimo crunched and cracked away and the crustacean.

“I’m setting out for Eventide today,” Mimo said as he drew the tender crab meat from the shell.

“If you ever wish to return to the village—” 

“I don’t.”

“Someday you may,” said Kass, “just remember that you have at least one friend there.”

Mimo sighed, embarrassed by Kass’s declaration.

“Where will you go?” Mimo asked.

“There are a few more places I must visit,” said Kass, “then I think I shall return home for a long rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not mandatory reading, but if you’re curious about the timeline, this chapter happens a little after [Mijah Rokee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004061) and sometime before [Plateau](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393850)...and it pulls from Olin’s meditations on the poetic traditions of other peoples from [Sky, it Falls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162518/chapters/55437898).
> 
> I am never really going to be happy with this chapter, but I am excited to get the next two out, so I felt the need to get this one out of the way...I’ve decided in the course of writing those chapters that this fic is getting an actual happy ending, not just my usual bittersweet, so that might be something.


	6. Awry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teba struggles to reconcile his role and the role of the warriors in the village; Gesane makes a rash decision.

As the guard shift changed that day, Teba was to be found in the Brazen Beak. The guards waited patiently outside on the boardwalk as he negotiated with Nekk over some repairs. Teba found that he did not relish these uniformly quiet reports, even as he realized it was foolish to wish for the dangerous days of nightly skirmishes with the local monster colonies. At least then Teba had felt useful.

“Skovo, Laissa,” he greeted them, as he tried not to limp up the boardwalk.

“Are we just reporting on the boardwalk now?” Laissa hazarded to ask.

“Unless you have something serious to report,” said Teba.

“Well, it was another quiet night for me,” said Skovo.

This was as Teba expected. He could not recall a time when there had been so few incidents reported over a span of weeks. That Link had cleared the area of monsters with such efficacy was a source of conflict for Teba. He admired the youth’s skill and relentless energy, but in such an environment he wondered if the warriors were growing obsolete...perhaps it was just him.

“Laissa? How was covering for Raza?” he asked.

“I can do it as long as you need,” she said, “it’s quiet at the village gate.”

“I’m sure we won’t need to inconvenience you for long.”

“Really, it’s no trouble,” she said.

“You’re dismissed,” said Teba, “go get some rest.”

Skovo peeled off from the group to return to his roost, but Laissa continued after Teba. The other guards would probably not be so bold, but Laissa was not one of his warriors.

“Is there something you want?” he asked.

“You’re short on guards,” she said.

“No one’s denying that.”

“Look, this may be a controversial suggestion, but I would be willing to be the first to step forward and volunteer.”

“Go on,” Teba prompted.

“Reinstate female warriors.”

Teba looked around to see if anyone had heard. How many times had Antilli pressed him on this very topic?

“This isn’t a conversation for the boardwalk,” he told her quietly.

“Then let’s go someplace and make it a conversation,” she insisted.

Teba tried to suppress his grumble of annoyance. He knew how gossip would spread if he were seen to be flying off alone with Laissa. Given the delicate state of his marriage, Teba was not prepared to fight off accusations of impropriety.

“Teba?” she pressed.

“Alright, tell me your proposal,” he said quietly as they stopped in front of Laissa and Bedoli’s empty roost.

“I understand that I don’t qualify to be a fully fledged warrior, but I don’t think that’s what you need right now. There is a real morale problem among your guards—”

“Is there?” asked Teba in surprise.

“You only have four of them! How could you not realize there’s a problem? Raza’s sick because he never gets a day off.”

“Raza was aware of what he was getting into,” said Teba in annoyance.

“All I’m saying is they would never tell you how much this is wearing them down.”

“Why would they never tell me?”

Laissa just stared at him.

“Teba...c’mon.”

“I would like you to clarify what you mean,” he told her, his brow furrowed.

“Aside from the issue of hierarchy? Because of your...disposition.”

“Are you telling me they’re afraid of me?” he asked, taken aback.

“Of course they are! The last time you lost your temper you split Mazli’s beak.”

Teba hated that his momentary loss of control was the subject of conversation. He did feel badly for what he had done in a moment of anger, but he felt that too much time had elapsed to address it.

“And you’re not concerned I might do the same to you?” Teba asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Please,” she scoffed.

“Why do you think reinstating women is the solution? Huck and Verla have been trained. I need only ask Kaneli and they will be added to the rota.”

“Huck and Verla couldn’t hit the broadside of a roost with an arrow, let alone a moving target.”

Teba suppressed his sigh. He knew she was right; Huck and Verla had not kept up their skills since they were trained as novices. In contrast, Teba had caught Laissa and Bedoli at the Flight Range more than once and the sisters could easily match any of the guards.

“Tell you what,” said Laissa, “we can make it a proper challenge. Me against any one of your warriors at the Flight Range. If I win, you let me into the ranks.”

If Teba was being honest, he thought perhaps that warriorhood as an institution was dead in flight. Aside from him and Harth, only Gesane, Mazli and Guy had been fully fledged, and he had heard nothing from the latter for the better part of a year.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Teba wavered.

“Well, as the Village Chronicler, I have to say...I have approached this fairly and in the traditions of our people. Women warriors were common until this generation.”

Teba wondered if she was bringing up her position as Chronicler to emphasize the extent of her knowledge of Teba’s background. Kaneli had assured him that those texts were conveniently missing, but Laissa was not stupid.

“It was not my decision to stop the practice. I was only a child myself—”

“The decision to ban women was treated as an incentive to procreate,” she interrupted him, “as you can see, nothing has changed since then.”

“I hesitate to point out that your generation was largely conceived in that policy,” said Teba.

“My mother was the last woman to stand as a warrior among the Rito. It didn’t stop her having kids.”

Teba shifted his weight from his injured leg. He did not want to tell Laissa that he remembered the day her mother was escorted from the Flight Range, though he had not thought of it in years.

“Let me prove my worth and you’ll have no choice but to allow me entrance. Even Kaneli can’t argue with that.”

“Fine,” grumbled Teba at length.

“Wonderful,” she smiled, “you’re doing a good thing.”

“Well, at the very least someone will find this entertaining, I’m sure.”

Teba wondered if keeping up the charade of Rito warriorhood was even worth it at this point, but perhaps Laissa could prove an asset...if she could best Teba’s warriors.

oOo

Gesane’s heart was racing. Since he had got away with his first attempt to visit Ariane late one night, he had been eager to spend another with her. He had come off of his watch and reported to Teba on the darkened landing mere moments ago, but he couldn’t stand to wait any longer. He cautiously peeked at the roosts around his to ensure he wasn’t being watched. Satisfied that this neighbours paid him no mind, he walked as quietly down the boardwalk as he could while other Rito slept in their roosts and took off from a gap in the railing. He could not help but grin a little as he drifted down toward the stable.

As agreed, Ariane met him in the woods behind the stable. She sat in the sparse, piney grass, illuminated by the light of a lantern which she had rested on a tree stump. She stood as she heard Gesane touch down, and as he entered the light she threw her arms around him. Abandoning caution, he wrapped her in his wings and pressed his face into her hair. She tilted her head back to kiss his end of his beak.

“I’m sorry,” she said pulling back, “you weren’t followed were you?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, glancing out into the dark behind him.

“I was worried I would never get out of the stable. Ponthos wouldn’t stop talking to me...I think he thinks that I might be interested in him,” she scoffed.

“You’re not though?” Gesane confirmed.

She made a distinctly Hylian noise of dismissal. It almost would have been easier if she were, Gesane thought, then at least he wouldn’t be caught in this endless cycle of elation and guilt.

“I was sent on a fly-over this morning,” said Gesane, “and I...”

He produced the sprigs of cool safflina he had bound together with a small strip of leather adorned with coloured beads. He had considered adding one of his feathers to the bouquet, but thought that this might be too bold and not recognized by a Hylian for the show of devotion that it was. As it was, Ariane smiled and thanked him for the flowers, but she did not see the same depth in the gesture as he did.

“Among the Rito,” he said carefully, his heart pounding, “this is a gift of...”

“Of...?”

“Declaration.”

“Of...what?” she pressed.

“I shouldn’t have...this is too forward,” he wavered.

She caught his wing as he stepped back in a panic.

“Gesane,” she said, “it’s alright, I’m not going to be upset.”

Even the touch of her hand on his wing set something inside of him on fire. He took a deep breath; this would settle the matter one way or another.

“It’s a declaration of...love.”

Ariane exhaled through her smile, as though unsure what to make of this.

“This was a mistake,” Gesane backtracked, withdrawing his wing as a sudden cold clenched his insides.

“No,” she assured him, “I just...this was...”

“I thought...after what happened the other night...”

“I feel the same way about you,” she said in a hurry.

“You do?” he asked, his heart nearly stopping.

“Of course...but...I didn’t want to talk about this because...”

Her face fell and Gesane reached out for her hand the same way she had gripped his wing.

“I know that you owe your people a debt,” she said, “and I’m taking you away from that...and I find that I can’t bring myself to care, because I selfishly want you all to myself.”

“I don’t care about their expectations anymore,” said Gesane as he pulled her close and pressed his beak into her hair, “all my life, the only person I’ve ever wanted is you.”

“Oh Goddess, I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, her fingers burrowing through the exposed feathers on his sides, “you want to give what we did the other night another go?”

“You have no idea,” he said, eager to feel the smooth skin against his feathers once more.

“I think I probably do,” she said, tugging at the strings on his leather cuirass.

Gesane cast the leather aside and fumbled with the ties on her tunic. She untied them with a quick motion and let Gesane pull the top up over her head. She pressed her bare skin to his feathers and Gesane wrapped her in his wings as he drew his beak through her hair. Truly, he had never known such happiness before this moment.

Their moment of bliss was short-lived. Gesane heard the telltale sound of wings and turned in terror, pushing Ariane behind him as she scrambled to pull her top back over her head.

“Goddess! What am I seeing right now?” came Harth’s dismayed voice as two figures entered their sphere of light.

Gesane stood frozen to the spot, clutching his leather armour to his body and shielding Ariane from Harth and Teba’s view. Harth looked scandalized, but Teba’s expression remained unreadable. Gesane had come to interpret that as a dangerous sign.

“Harth, give us a moment,” said Teba, his voice disturbingly calm.

Harth looked only too happy to retreat to the road. Gesane stood shaking, waiting for the First Warrior to say something...anything. The silence that seemed to stretch on was broken by Ariane, who stepped up beside Gesane, her neckerchief still in her hand.

“We have nothing to be ashamed of,” she said resolutely.

Her determination made Gesane want to weep as he felt everything crumbling around him. He wanted to spare her this.

“Ariane...you should go,” said Gesane quietly.

“Gesane—”

“Please.”

Ariane glanced quickly at Teba and covered her mouth with the back of her fist as she backed away. Gesane swore the look of worry and sadness that she cast him would haunt him the rest of his days. She broke into a run back to the stable within a few steps.

“Get dressed,” said Teba tonelessly.

“Teba, I—”

“Put your clothes on,” Teba repeated.

“Did you bring Harth just to humiliate me?” Gesane asked acerbically as he refastened his cuirass.

“I didn’t know what I was going into and Harth was with me on the landing. No one wishes to humiliate you.”

Ariane had left her lantern and, Gesane saw, the bouquet of cool safflina. He looked up to see that Teba had also noticed this.

“Is this why you broke off your betrothal to Bedoli?” Teba asked.

Gesane nodded, fearing he was about to break down. His brief moment of happiness had come crashing into ruin as he knew it would—he had only hoped that he could make it last just a little longer.

“You know why this can’t go on,” Teba said, clearly not relishing this.

“If you think this has been easy, you don’t understand anything about me.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Am I to be punished?” Gesane asked, slinging his falcon bow which had been cast to the ground in his earlier excitement.

“Likely.”

“Why can’t you ignore this?”

“I tried,” said Teba irately, “but you were careless and Kaneli saw you. That’s why I was sent.”

Gesane swore under his breath and tried to contain his apprehension.

“So Harth is here in case I didn’t come willingly?” Gesane asked shakily.

“Are you going to try to fight us?”

“No,” he said in resignation, “I knew this would happen one day. Let’s just get it over with.”

As they emerged from the woods they met Harth waiting on the road. Gesane found he couldn’t meet Harth’s eyes as they made their way to the bridge. They passed Skovo without a word, but as they reached the first stack, Harth’s uncharacteristic silence dissolved into his more characteristic needling.

“What would you even do with a Hylian?”

“Harth,” warned Teba, his brow furrowed.

“Why? Are you looking for one of your own?” Gesane said before he could stop himself.

“Don’t be disgusting,” said Harth.

“Enough,” Teba hissed angrily, “Harth, I don’t want you talking about this with anyone.”

“I am familiar with your stance on gossip,” he replied acidly.

Gesane walked silently between Teba and Harth as they argued in hushed voices. For all the guilt he had wrestled with over his feelings for Ariane, he could no longer find it in himself to feel ashamed. Though he was about to face the elder for his indiscretion, he felt emboldened having been caught. If they exiled him, he would beg Ariane to come with him. If they tried to force him into a Rito marriage, he would not give his consent. With each step up the boardwalk, he became more sure of his commitment.

As he entered the elder’s roost, Teba and Harth stood outside on the boardwalk. It was a formality; they were hardly a wingspan’s distance from him and would hear every word of the exchange. Gesane faced Kaneli where he sat near the back of his roost, his heart thrumming in fearful anticipation.

“I have long suspected you’ve been meeting with the woman from the stable,” said Kaneli heavily.

Gesane said nothing.

“Do you wish to say anything about your actions?” Kaneli asked.

“I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

“This ends here,” said Kaneli, “set aside your Hylian and proceed with your arrangement with Bedoli.”

Kaneli sat back as though—with that one command—he had resolved the matter.

“I’m not going to do that,” Gesane told him.

Kaneli sighed and rubbed his brow with a long-feathered hand.

“I had assumed that you had enough sense of dignity that you wouldn’t force us to assemble arbiters for such a matter.”

“Apparently not,” said Gesane unrepentantly. 

“What would your parents think?” sighed Kaneli.

Gesane was momentarily taken aback; he could not imagine that his parents would be well pleased with his behaviour, but they were many years gone. Gesane saw this tactic for what it was, and refused to give in to Kaneli.

“I understand that this isn’t about my parents,” said Gesane, “I know this is about duty to future generations—”

“You have diverse forebears and no siblings,” Kaneli interrupted, “it’s important for you to keep your blood in the flock.”

“If that was all this was, I’m sure arrangements could be made,” Gesane suggested boldly, “this is about maintaining some sort of status quo.”

Gesane thought he heard Harth whisper something to Teba on the boardwalk and he glanced back to see Harth looking impressed. Though Harth had been no friend to him, it only galvanized Gesane’s resolve.

“Once more, Gesane,” pressed Kaneli, “do you really wish for this to be dealt with publicly?”

Gesane could feel his whole body quivering with anxiety, but he smiled a little in his fear as he met the elder’s yellow eyes.

“Yes,” he said obdurately, “make an example of me.”

oOo

Kaneli was restless in his hammock. Gesane was a flight risk, so Kaneli had instructed Teba and Harth to have him bound at the guard’s post—a measure that Kaneli had not seen fit to enact in years. Teba had protested having one of his warriors subjected to such an indignity, but Kaneli had to remain firm in this to remind other Rito that they owed it to the future of their entire civilization to find suitable mates. Gesane’s guilt was affirmed, but his punishment would be for the arbiters to decide.

Kaneli had spent the last decades of his life trying to encourage growth in their population, but it was becoming more and more apparent that there was something wrong with the flock: Kass and Amali were the only pair in their generation to have multiple offspring; Teba and Saki had been married as soon as they reached adulthood, but had only one child; and Kaneli had often regretted approving Harth and Antilli’s union, given their common ancestors, but had hastily bid them go ahead in hopes that they might succeed anyway.

Morning crept upon him, and Kaneli regretfully rolled from his hammock. His day was a full one; he had to meet with a couple seeking approval to marry, Teba had said he wanted a word regarding the future of the warriors, and he had to assemble the arbiters for Gesane’s hearing. Kaneli knew it was his role to find impartial parties in the interest of fairness, but he was willing to bend that rule in this case. Nothing about extinction was fair, he thought bitterly.

Teba preempted the couple, arriving much earlier than Kaneli usually took meetings. In Teba’s case, he would always make an exception.

“I have had a proposal about the warriors,” said Teba, never bothering with the niceties of small-talk.

Teba didn’t meet Kaneli’s gaze. He imagined that Teba was still stinging from the shame of having one of his few remaining warriors publicly bound.

“And that is?” Kaneli asked genially.

“We reinstate women.”

“To what end?”

“My guards are exhausted,” said Teba, “and it is possible I may be losing another to this...debacle. Laissa and Bedoli were trained by their parents; let us at least utilize their skills at the posts of guards.”

“I can’t agree with that on a permanent basis,” said Kaneli.

“You should know...that an archery challenge has been issued, and I have accepted, based on historical precedent.”

“How is your leg?” said Kaneli, “I notice you still limp.”

“I’m on the mend,” said Teba stoically, though his eyebrows lowered tellingly.

“Are you well enough to meet this challenger?”

“It would be unbecoming of the First Warrior to meet such a challenge.”

“Who is your best archer?”

“Mazli,” said Teba after a moment of thought.

“Really? Not Harth?” Kaneli pressed.

“I hesitate to put Harth in such a position right now.”

“Don’t lose this challenge because you cannot see past your friendship,” Kaneli cautioned.

“I’ll think on the matter,” said Teba, effectively ending the discussion as he turned to leave.

“Teba,” said Kaneli.

The warrior turned and looked back at Kaneli.

“Tulin seems lonely. He needs a sibling.”

Teba made a dismissive noise and left without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the jeopardy!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	7. Mockery of Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fyson becomes increasingly paranoid; Gesane endures slander and shame with help from someone unexpected; Teba is forced to rethink his position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No blood, I promise, but some public humiliation and probably some psychological scarring. Fair warning, I’m pretty happy with this chapter, but (without spoiling anything) the way this goes down is pretty rough.

The morning sun warmed the roofs and floorboards of the roosts in Rito Village. Fyson rolled from his hammock in the shop and stowed it away beneath a wares table. His mother was nowhere to be found, but that was hardly unusual at this early hour. Rather than moping about the shop, Fyson decided he might walk down to the stable to see if there were any opportunities outside of the village.

Since he had begun training with Harth, Fyson had found his outlook had improved somewhat. He was still eager to leave, of course, but his current periods of lounging on the landing were not so full of dark thoughts of escape and had become more directed planning of what he would do out in Hyrule.

As Fyson set out down the boardwalk, Verla caught him by the wing in front of the inn.

“Morning,” said Fyson, a little surprised, “are you okay?”

“Something’s happening,” said Verla, glancing toward the village entrance, “they’ve got Gesane tied up up in the guard’s post.”

“Gesane? Why?”

Verla shrugged and looked uneasy. Curious, Fyson passed the goddess statue and took the stairs down to the gate. He froze on the grassy landing at the top of the first set of stairs when he saw Gesane, his wings stretched wide and lashed to the slats in the guard’s post. Harth leaned against his feathered spear in boredom as he stood watch over the detainee.

“Harth?” Fyson said, recovering his voice as he took the last flight down to the grass.

“Fyson, you shouldn’t be here,” sighed Harth as he turned.

“What’s going on?” he asked, staring at Gesane.

Gesane looked up, a belligerent smile on his normally reserved face. His feathers were askew and his eyes glassy with sleep deprivation. Fyson thought he looked a little unhinged. Glancing back at Harth, Fyson saw he hardly looked any better, though his serious expression did not unnerve Fyson the way Gesane’s determined smile did.

“Go on. Tell him,” urged Gesane, “Kaneli wants me to be an example for others.”

“You’ve become far too proud of yourself in the last few hours,” said Harth.

“Gesane, what did you do?” Fyson asked in horror, approaching the edge of the post.

Fyson had never known Gesane to be anything but pleasant—even to him, which was something that could not be said of most of the guards. To be tied like this was a humiliation meant for those who had committed a transgression against the tribe. Fyson could not begin to imagine what the solemn guard had done to deserve such a punishment.

“I fell in love with a Hylian,” he said, meeting Fyson’s gaze with frightening intensity.

“What? How is that even possible?”

Fyson couldn’t seem to get his head around the idea of a Rito and a Hylian. The concept sounded outlandish, but certainly not deserving of such public shaming.

“How is falling in love at all possible?” asked Gesane.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been.”

“Neither had I.”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” sighed Harth, “Kaneli will have me tied beside you if I let you corrupt the youth like this.”

Fyson turned to face Harth. His expression was grim as he leaned against his feathered spear in apparent fatigue.

“Don’t tell me you agree with this?” Fyson pressed him.

“I’m here as much for his protection as to guard him.”

“Protection, from whom?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Harth told him, “just go about your day. Gesane’s fine.”

Fyson cast a worried glance back at Gesane.

“Harth’s just doing his duty,” Gesane agreed, “he’s not brave enough to stand up for others.”

Harth bristled but did not respond to Gesane’s attempt to provoke him.

Fyson was so disturbed by all of this that he turned to flee back to his mother’s shop. Inside, Misa had returned, and she stood speaking to Kaneli. Fyson ran past, fearing that Kaneli might somehow know that he sympathized with Gesane’s plight. His hands were shaking and he felt he had nowhere to hide. Surely, if Gesane’s every move was so closely scrutinized, Fyson must be under constant watch as well. He crossed the bridge near Bedoli and Laissa’s roost and sat down behind the shrine.

Fyson wished Kass were here; he always seemed to know what to say to make everyone see reason and he was never afraid to say it. Fyson wanted to leap to Gesane’s defence, to tell everyone that it was none of their business...but re-population was everyone’s business.

Fyson leaned his head back against the rough, rope-like patterns on the shrine and stared out at the tall evergreens on the mainland. The pleasant piney air was not a balm for his troubled soul today. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there watching the shadows below move, but he was beginning to grow hungry when he was discovered by Genli.

“This isn’t your usual spot,” she said sitting down beside him.

“I needed a change of scenery,” he told her.

Genli picked at the grass that grew long around the base of the shrine.

“Because of Gesane?” she asked.

“Should you really be seeing that?”

“I wanted to see if you went to the salmon pond, but Harth told me to turn around and go home.”

“Well...I’m here.”

Genli tied the grass into little knots before she tossed each blade over the edge of the stack. It was clear that something was bothering her.

“Molli told me a secret,” she said finally.

“What’s that?”

She looked up at Fyson, her eyes full of betrayal. 

“You’re training to be a warrior without me.”

“Not a warrior. Just how to use a bow properly.”

“And that you’re leaving,” she said, dissolving into tears.

“Hey, don’t cry. I don’t even know if I’m leaving,” he said panicking.

“Why do you want to leave us?” Genli whiffled.

“I don’t want to leave you,” said Fyson, “I just want to find my place.”

“Your place is here! Why is everyone leaving?”

Fyson put his wing around Genli as she began to sob again in that painful, encompassing way that children do.

“Is this about your dad?”

“NO!” she shouted, leaping to her feet as fat tears rolled past her beak.

Fyson stood and lifted Genli in his wings. She struggled a little before she went limp and just cried.

“It’s alright to be sad,” Fyson told her.

He wasn’t sure where he had learned this sentiment. It had certainly not come from his mother. He thought perhaps Kass; the bard had soothed enough of his tears when he was Genli’s age. It felt somehow older though, buried in feathers the same colour as his own.

“I’m not sad! I’m angry at you!” Genli shouted.

“Yeah, that’s okay too.”

“I’m angry because you grew up and you aren’t friends with me anymore!”

“We’re still friends,” Fyson assured her, “and if I ever leave, I’ll back to visit...but that’s not happening right now.”

“Promise?”

“Of course I promise,” he said, affectionately bumping his forehead against hers. 

“You can put me down now,” Genli sniffled as her outburst ran its course.

Fyson tried to put Genli on the ground but she held onto him, even as he spread his wings wide, and she giggled through her tears.

“Tricked you!”

“You’re going to have to get down sometime.”

“Only if you carry me to my lunch,” she said, scrambling onto his shoulders.

“Some warrior you’d be,” he teased, “you’d make a better princess.”

“Yes, but I only want to be the kind of princess who kills bokoblins.”

“You be whatever you want, princess.”

oOo 

Gesane had been dreading the moment when Mazli would take over Harth’s post. Harth—though admittedly irritated at having been sent to guard him—had not done anything except stand in almost complete silence at his post. To his credit, when Bedoli arrived and showered Gesane in verbal abuse, Harth had quickly sent her away.

“I can’t believe you would do that with a Hylian!” she had shouted tearfully as Harth escorted her back up the stairs to the village, “I wouldn’t marry you now if we were the only two Rito left alive!” 

For all the audacity he had been filled with the night before as he had confronted the elder, Gesane was beginning to doubt his commitment to this course as his wings ached in their bindings. While he remained resilient to the caustic remarks from his fellow Rito, he wondered how long it would be before he would waver. At one point in the morning, as the tips of his wings grew numb, he had seriously considered begging the elder and Bedoli for a second chance. He lack of resolve terrified him, especially when he recalled those brief moments of happiness he had shared with Ariane—when he recalled that she loved him in return.

Mazli arrived with Teba at the changing of the guards. Clearly, Teba had briefed him on what to expect, because Mazli showed no surprise when he saw Gesane in such a prone position. As Mazli took over, Gesane strained against his bonds to hear Teba and Harth’s conversation as they retreated back up to the village, but Teba spoke far too quietly for Gesane to catch more than a murmur. Harth cast a glance back at Gesane, his expression conflicted.

“I didn’t actually believe it,” said Mazli from where he stood just outside the post.

Gesane looked up at Mazli’s snarled beak and unreadable expression.

“You must be thrilled to be right for once,” Gesane said with all the acid he could muster in his growing exhaustion.

“I’m not,” said Mazli, uncharacteristically serious.

“You mean after all of your gossip, you’re not happy to finally be proven right about something?”

“Laissa and I are to marry,” Mazli announced sharply, “Kaneli just gave his blessing.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’ve been with Laissa and Bedoli all morning. Bedoli is a wreck! Why couldn’t you have just kept your Hylian a secret and gone ahead with the marriage?”

“I can't believe I’m hearing this from you, of all people,” Gesane laughed mirthlessly.

“Why me of all people?”

“You gaping _vent_. I have put up with your gossip since the moment you took up your spear. You have watched people get hurt because of the things you’ve said—”

“I was trying to warn you!” snapped Mazli.

“Don’t speak to me anymore. I’m glad I was never so naive as to mistake you for a friend.”

“Gesane...”

“I hope I am exiled,” Gesane spat, “because I can’t wait to put the whole of Hyrule between us!”

Rather than argue, Mazli walked down toward the bridge to stand his watch away from him. 

As the afternoon progressed, the discomfort of being bound continued to wear away at Gesane’s resolve. No doubt this was what Kaneli had wanted all along. Gesane tried restlessly to sleep as the sunlight that made its way under the overhang warmed his feathers intolerably. He let his beak rest on his chest as he tried to endure this trial with what little remained of his dignity intact.

“Gesane.”

Gesane flinched away from the hand that tapped his face and looked up to see Harth crouched before him. As he blinked, trying to clear his vision, he saw that the sun had nearly set.

“Was I asleep?” Gesane asked in confusion, trying to flex his wings the little he could in the bonds.

Harth nodded.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to go down to the stable to meet a merchant,” Harth said.

He pointedly glanced to the bridge and Gesane saw Mazli still occupied the position.

“Kaneli has chosen the arbiters,” Harth said under his breath, “Teba is among them so he can’t speak to you. Otherwise, I suspect he would be here.”

That Harth believed their First Warrior would be in attendance to support Gesane spoke volumes to the different experiences that the two had had with Teba. The sentiment was nice though.

“It still begs the question why you’re here,” said Gesane.

Gesane was hardly friends with Harth. In fact, he was somewhat wary of the bow-maker, having been on the receiving end of his misdirected rage, years prior. It was an incident for which Harth had never apologized.

“Your punishment will be decided tomorrow evening,” Harth told him.

“Why is he making me wait? I can hardly feel my wings.”

“You know why.”

Gesane nodded; no doubt Kaneli wanted him at his worst when the punishment was announced. He thought—not for the first time—that Kaneli might be overstepping the bounds of his role as elder. Harth’s expression suggested that it didn’t sit well with him either.

“Your...Ariane,” Harth amended, “has been seeking entrance to the village all day.”

It may have been the exhaustion and the growing pain in his wings, but Gesane worried he might weep when he heard this.

“Does she...know?”

“I spoke with her,” said Harth, “she sent you this.”

Harth glanced toward the bridge to see that Mazli was looking elsewhere and pulled a small circle of something from his cuirass. Gesane recognized the chevron pattern and tasselled ties as a horsehair bracelet. Gesane wondered if this was meant to be some sort of equivalent gift to the cool safflina he had presented to her only the night before. Harth tucked it into the top of Gesane’s cuirass so that he might have it near his heart.

“You’ve barely said a thing all day. Why are you doing this?” Gesane asked, astonished by Harth’s thoughtful gesture. 

Harth lowered his head a little in shame. It was an expression that Gesane had never seen the arrogant warrior wear before.

“I know I’m complicit in this. I fear what might happen if I protest...I worry about where Molli would go if I were exiled...but I realize that it was wrong of me to dismiss what you have. And this...” he said staring at Gesane’s bound wings, “this isn’t right. It’s hard to argue against not dying out...but compulsory marriage hasn’t sat well with anyone since it began.”

“For all the good it’s done,” said Gesane bitterly.

“You can make Rito marry, but Goddess knows the effort it takes to repopulate...” Harth trailed off bitterly.

“But you and Antilli...”

“We chose one another freely, without the interference of our parents or the elder...for all the good that did the tribe...”

“Anyone could see how you adored one another.”

“We were friends our whole lives... and we were happy together,” said Harth, a familiar pain crossing his face, “who am I to deny someone the same happiness when it’s such a rare thing?”

Gesane was taken aback by Harth’s frank admission. The grief that had been clouding Harth’s vision these past moons seemed to be clearing to reveal a version of him that Gesane found wholly unexpected.

“Thank you,” Gesane whispered.

“Be brave,” said Harth, resting a hand on Gesane’s stiff shoulder, “she’s waiting for you.”

oOo

The sky was uncharacteristically darkened by heavy clouds that had rolled in on a frigid wind from the Hebra range. The chill wind that blew across the stacks had a dampness to it that seemed to creep beneath Teba’s feathers as he assembled at the base of the village with the other three arbiters Kaneli had selected. It struck Teba that Misa, Nekk, and Huck were not among the most open-minded when it came to departures from traditionalism in Rito custom, and he was certain that this was no accident. He had also come to believe that he was selected for this duty because Kaneli felt he was tractable.

Before them, Gesane stood with Raza and Skovo flanking him, the three of them framed by the arch at the foot of the stairs. Gesane was dishevelled from two nights in the guard’s post and held his twitching wings folded submissively in front of him. Teba imagined his younger self would have borne this sight without qualm, but as the wind flipped the soft coverts on Gesane’s wings, Teba had a difficult time suppressing the guilt for the part he had played in this.

The village had come out in droves to see the pronouncement, and stood along the raised ledges above where the path dipped down to the bridge. Teba wished that Saki had not brought Tulin, but perhaps it was important for him to see how Rito justice—such as it was—worked. It was not as though anyone could stay away without risk of attracting gossip.

“Gesane, son of Usli and Kisot, you stand before us to confess your misdeed and receive discipline,” said Kaneli, “please, make your confession.”

Gesane stared at Kaneli where he stood off to the side of the arbiters. Though he shook with nerves and fatigue, Gesane fixed Kaneli with a look of loathing which Teba had never known the likes of—let alone that the mild-mannered guard could even deliver.

“I refuse to believe that what I have done is a misdeed,” said Gesane, his voice raw, “but I confess for all to hear that I have given my heart to a Hylian.”

His brazen confession elicited a murmur from those assembled. Teba almost wished he would deny it—Rito justice hinged on the admission of wrongdoing and fell apart when the accused claimed innocence. In all his life, Teba had never known the latter to happen; such a lie was a greater stain on one’s character than whatever transgression they may have committed.

“Did you forsake your arrangement with Bedoli to pursue this Hylian?” Kaneli pressed.

“Yes,” said Gesane, casting Bedoli a shame-filled glance.

“Did you engage in intimate acts with this Hylian?”

The crowd gasped and whispered at the salaciousness of the question. Teba cast Kaneli what he hoped was a look of disgust.

“Elder, there are children here!” Amali shouted, sparing Gesane answering.

“Then, is there anything else you would like to say for yourself?” Kaneli pressed Gesane.

“I would pledge myself to her this very moment,” Gesane announced acidly over the crowd.

Though the assembled behind him made noises of disgust at Gesane’s proclamation, he did not flinch. Teba wanted to shout at this same fickle crowd that had cheered him and Harth mere weeks ago as they arrogantly committed to their doomed mission against Vah Medoh.

“Arbiters, do you have any further questions?” asked Kaneli.

“No,” said Nekk, glancing at the other three.

“Please, make your deliberations.”

Teba stiffly followed Misa up the boardwalk to her shop; she had drawn it with curtains for this very purpose. As they gathered around the counter at the back of the shop, Nekk, Huck and Misa, stared at him as though they expected him to say something.

“Let us exile him and be done with it,” said Teba disinterestedly, “all that remains is to decide the length of the punishment.”

“The punishment hardly fits the crime,” Misa pointed out, “if Gesane is exiled he will only return to the arms of his Hylian.”

“It is none of our business what an exile does.”

“Teba, it sounds like you aren’t very invested in this,” said Huck.

“I have had enough of my warrior being dragged through the mud to satisfy whatever this farce is!”

“Well, you know what the solution to this is,” offered Nekk, his eyebrows raised pointedly, “a fitting punishment.”

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, my answer is no,” Teba objected, “I will not have Gesane subjected to further humiliation.”

“Teba,” sighed Misa, “Kaneli is right. Our children will live to see the last days of the Rito if we allow such things to go on.”

“If this is what our civilization has become, perhaps we deserve to see our end!” shouted Teba.

“Easy, they’re only curtains,” said Huck, “they probably heard you in Gerudo Town.”

“Oh, and what is it you’re doing for the future of the Rito?” snapped Teba.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but given how long Frita has been gone, I’m free to make other arrangements with Bedoli.”

“Teba, this is the best solution,” said Nekk, “it ensures that Gesane must stay in the village and it will grow out by next year.”

“But he will be useless as a warrior.”

“All he does is stand on the damn bridge!”

“I agree with Nekk,” said Huck.

Teba was hardly surprised that Huck would fall in line behind the embittered tailor. He turned to Misa.

“I’m sorry, Teba, I’m afraid I agree,” she said, “this is the most painless solution.”

“It could be your son next,” Teba told her seriously.

“It would never be my son.”

“I will not be a party to this cruelty!”

“That’s fine; three in agreement is all we need,” said Nekk, gesturing to Misa for paper so that they might draft a statement.

Teba stepped outside to the boardwalk to catch his breath. His leg ached terribly and he clutched it as he leaned against the pillar. He straightened abruptly as the three left Misa’s shop. Nekk left the group to run up to his shop. Teba followed Huck back to their positions, unable to even glance at Gesane as they passed. As Misa brought the ruling to Kaneli, Teba could see Nekk strolling down the boardwalk with an unnerving spring in his step. 

As Misa took her place beside Huck, Teba glanced back at the assembled Rito to where Saki and Harth stood side-by-side, holding Tulin and Molli. Saki caught sight of his expression and held their son a little tighter as Nekk returned to his place beside Teba. Goddess, how he did not want Tulin to hear this.

“It is the decision of the majority of the arbiters,” read Kaneli as the crowd quieted, “that Gesane is to have his wings clipped in punishment for his transgression. The punishment is to be carried out immediately.”

Gesane grit his beak at the pronouncement and his whole body shook; it was clear that he had expected to be exiled. In the crowd, Teba could see Amali directing her children back toward the village stairs and Harth handing Molli to Saki as she followed suit. Fyson buried his beak in his wing and closed his eyes as though he were about to be ill. Mazli covered the back of his head with his wings as he leaned forward. Raza and Skovo exchanged a look of dread as they held Gesane’s wings.

“Teba,” called Gesane desperately.

Teba pushed through those in the crowd who were leaving as he made his way to the shamed warrior. He sensed, rather than saw Harth following behind him. Gesane pulled his wing from Skovo’s slack grip to hook his hand into the top of Teba’s cuirass.

“I’m sorry. I advocated for exile,” Teba told him.

“Just...don’t let Nekk do it,” he begged in a thin voice, his eyes darting to something behind Teba.

“Gesane...”

“I accept my punishment and all of the shame it brings, but I fear Nekk means to do me permanent harm.”

His wing was shaking against Teba’s chest. Teba wrapped his wing around the back of Gesane’s neck to try and steady him. He had the sickening feeling that the disgraced warrior might be right about Nekk.

“Skovo, Raza, resume your posts,” snapped Teba without looking at them, “and you know my feelings about gossip.”

“Teba,” muttered Harth darkly, taking up Skovo’s spot as the guards left, “Nekk could easily make any damage to Gesane’s wing look like an accident...I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Teba did not want to share his suspicion that the other arbiters had planned this beforehand. He turned to see Nekk advancing, shears in hand. He had felt uneasy about Nekk’s apparent enthusiasm since the shameful punishment was suggested, but he was absolutely disgusted by the look in Nekk’s eyes as he strode toward them.

“Teba, please. If it’s to be done, let it be you,” whispered Gesane, “I don’t trust anyone else.”

Teba shared a brief look with Harth and saw his friend did not relish the idea any more than he did. Teba took a deep breath and faced the tailor.

“Nekk. I have this in hand,” said Teba gesturing for the shears.

“Really? Didn’t think you had it in you,” said Nekk as he handed them over.

Teba glanced up at the village above, grateful that Tulin would not see this.

“I’m First Warrior; I will deal with discipline within my ranks,” Teba said as convincingly as he could, “Harth.”

Harth nodded and stood behind Gesane, making a mockery of restraining him with one wing beneath his and one wrapped over Gesane’s other wing so that he would not strike out. Unsteady as he was, Gesane seemed to desperately need Harth’s support. As Gesane held out one shaking wing, Teba ran his hand along the edge to determine where feathers met flesh.

“I’m so very sorry,” Teba said quietly.

Gesane was breathing raggedly, as though trying to hold back his tears. Teba saw how Gesane clutched Harth’s wing in his trembling hand and it made him want throw down the shears right then. He knew someone else would only take up the task.

“I accept my punishment,” Gesane whispered.

As Gesane fixed his glare on Kaneli, Teba held Gesane’s shaking hand and carefully lined up the shears. He clipped the ends of Gesane’s flight feathers one at a time, each one snapping hollowly as the shaft was cut. Gesane neither flinched, nor looked to what Teba was doing.

As he switched to Gesane’s other wing, he saw the guard was still boring through Kaneli with a defiant glare. Teba completed the loathsome task with an anodyne focus. The russet feather fragments caught in the grass at their feet and blew in the stormy wind. 

When he turned, Teba saw how many Rito still remained at the base of the village: Bedoli had tears of anger rolling down her feathers; Mazli had the back of his wing pressed against his beak, his eyes closed; Huck looked grimly satisfied; but it was Kaneli’s unmoved expression that most angered Teba.

“I hope you’re all happy,” he snarled at the crowd, casting the shears to the ground.

At Teba’s outburst, the crowd began to disperse. Teba wanted to chase them off, and clenched his hands into fists to fight the impulse. 

“Teba, it’s over,” came Harth’s voice from behind him.

Teba turned to see Gesane staring at his shaking wings as Harth held him upright. Though he had maintained his composure through the hearing and wing-clipping, Gesane had finally broken down into silent sobs. Teba was sickened by his own part in this.

“Gesane, you may have what ever time you feel you need,” he told him.

“Let me resume my post,” Gesane begged.

“You need to rest. We can discuss it tomorrow.”

“I need to see her!”

Teba caught Gesane under his wing as his legs failed him.

“Let him go! Show her what this has cost him,” called Nekk from the stairs.

“Fuck you, Nekk!” shouted Harth as Teba supported Gesane to the bridge.

“Harth, let’s go,” Teba said impatiently.

They held Gesane between them as they crossed the bridge. Gesane bit back his sobs as he stared at his blunted wings, only managing to make his way forward because Teba and Harth willed him on.

“They’ll grow back. They’ll grow back,” he whispered over and over to himself.

To Teba’s great surprise, Harth held one of Gesane’s now oddly skinny wings in his own.

“You’re going to be alright,” he said with the kind of gentleness Teba had only heard reserved for Molli.

As Gesane regained control of himself, Teba wondered what exactly had transpired between the two to account for such a change. Harth had not seemed his usual self for some time, but Teba had never known him to have such empathy.

“I need to stop,” Gesane announced before they reached the last bridge.

Gesane shrugged off Teba and Harth and crouched by the pond. As he splashed water over his face and neck, he stared at his wings in disbelief. It was not with the same horror that had been in his eyes as he had had at the base of the village, but with the slow acceptance that he would no longer be able to leap into the wind. Teba found that look no more comforting.

“I don’t blame you in this,” Gesane said as he stood and faced Teba.

“I wish you wouldn’t absolve me of guilt when it was I who dragged you to the elder’s roost.”

“I went of my own freewill.”

“Come on,” said Harth, putting a wing around Gesane’s shoulders, “Ariane awaits.”

As Harth walked with Gesane down the bridge, Teba caught Skovo by the upper wing as he patrolled.

“If Gesane wants to come down here, you allow him. If anyone tells you differently you report it to me,” he said harshly.

Skovo nodded, clearly still shaken by what had transpired.

“What of Ariane?” Skovo asked as Teba turned.

“She is not to cross this bridge.”

Given the disgust which the Rito has heaped upon Gesane these past days, Teba was not certain that Ariane would be safe inside of the village. Gesane may not have said her name aloud, but the villagers had a close enough relationship with the stable to know who she was. It was better not to risk it.

Teba caught up with Harth and Gesane as they reached the stable. The cinders sparked and swirled around the cooking pot in the stormy wind. When she saw him, Ariane leapt from where she sat by the fire to Gesane’s open wings. Neither of them paid any attention when the Hylians that milled about the stable reacted in shock to their kiss. She reached up to his face wiped at the tears that rolled past his beak.

“Oh your wings,” she said her own eyes overflowing as she held them carefully in her arms.

“They don’t hurt, truly,” he choked, “they’ll grow back.”

“How could they do this to you?” she cried as Gesane cocooned her in his blunted wings and pressed his beak to her hair.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. There’s nothing more they can take from me.”

Confident that the Hylians were not about to disturb the couple, Teba walked to the edge of Lake Totori and wrapped his wings around himself. Harth joined him.

“Teba. Are you alright?”

Teba swallowed hard and shook his head. None of this was right. The Rito had always claimed to value freedom above all things, but Teba had watched their freedom shrink from the moment half the village had crumbled into the lake below when he was a small child. 

He had conceded that it was important to keep up the flock, and he and Saki had pledged themselves to one another the moment they reached adulthood without a second thought. He had watched as their beloved instructor was escorted from the Flight Range because women were ejected from the warriors, and he never questioned why. He had clipped the wings of one of his warriors because in Rito rulings, all punishments are just if the accused has confessed. He had allowed these things happen without much thought, because that was just the way things were.

“Goddess, Harth, you were right,” said Teba in anguish, staring hard at Medoh above and hoping that he might see the luminous green figure that he had heard resided therein.

“I want to savour hearing this, but about what?” asked Harth, taken aback.

“Kaneli...he’s lost sight of everything except eggs.”

“Teba, it’s been an awful night...” Harth sighed.

“Antilli...she wanted so badly to be a warrior as she had trained to be,” said Teba, unable to contain his sudden grief and guilt.

Harth looked shocked to hear Teba speaking openly about his wife.

“She trained with us until we were nearly grown,” said Teba, “how could I have discounted that?”

“I don’t know if I can handle...this right now.”

Teba drew his wing across his eyes as he sealed the momentary fracture in his armour.

“I’ve had a challenge levelled, to join the warriors.”

“By whom?” asked Harth in surprise.

“Laissa. I can’t meet the challenge as First Warrior. I had thought to put her against Mazli, but in light of their betrothal...” Teba trailed off.

“What are you saying?”

“Harth, you’re the only one left who can meet this challenge.”

“Teba...” Harth protested.

“Listen. Kaneli wants you to win.”

“And you?”

Teba fixed Harth with his most serious expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you made it :) I know I kill of characters pretty unflinchingly in other fics, but I think this was somehow much darker than anything I’ve posted for BotW.


	8. On Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harth struggles between his own pain and what he believes he owes to others; Amali receives a surprise; Fyson realizes that there are people he must leave behind to find himself.

“I don’t think Gesane should be left alone tonight,” Harth told Teba.

“I agree,” said Teba, casting Gesane a concerned glance.

The two of them had stood watch near the stable well into the night. The rain had finally decided to fall and still Gesane and Ariane sat together near the cooking pot holding each other. Teba looked wistfully up at his roost. Harth noticed he still clutched at his leg, though Harth could not imagine that it hadn’t yet healed. His own wing had been sore for a while after his injury, but it had been weeks since Teba had confronted Medoh.

“Teba, you can go,” Harth decided aloud, “I’ll stay with Gesane.”

“You’ve hardly slept these past nights,” Teba protested.

“None of us have, but we have to walk back and it looks like you need to get off your leg.”

Teba stared at Harth, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Harth said.

“Alright,” he sighed, “come for Molli whenever you wake.”

Harth nodded as Teba spread his wings and leapt out out over the lake. Harth watched as Teba rode the wind up toward the village. As the rain picked up, he turned back to Gesane and Ariane to see nothing remained of the cooking fire but steam and ash.

“Gesane,” called Harth, “say goodnight.”

“I didn’t realize I was in need of a chaperone.”

“That’s not what this is.”

In the village above, Harth could see the Rito had secured their roosts with with curtains to block out the rain. He hoped that Teba would think to do the same for his roost while he was stuck on the mainland. Harth blinked against the raindrops that struck his face. A storm like this was a rare thing, yet somehow entirely suited to the terrible emptiness Harth felt after the events of the night.

Harth let Gesane take his time saying goodbye, though he hated when his leather got wet. When Gesane finally joined Harth near the bridge, he was not nearly so distressed as when they had come down from the village, but having been bound in the guard’s post for two days had left him exhausted. They crossed the bridges in silence, their footfalls lost to the sound of the rain.

“I’m going to stay with you tonight,” Harth finally told him as they passed the salmon pond which rippled with rain.

“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” said Gesane.

“Do you have another friend who might defend you if anything should happen?”

“It’s strange to hear you call yourself ‘friend’,” Gesane deflected.

“Not to split feathers, but I’m not certain that I did,” said Harth.

“I knew that it was just a façade,” said Gesane, his eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“This...whatever you’ve been doing these past few days.”

“It’s not a façade; I’m on your side in this.”

“That’s quite a change from calling us ‘disgusting’ when you came to apprehend me.”

“Not that this is approval,” said Harth, “but I think that our issues may stem from the same cause.”

“And that is?”

“Kaneli’s stance on reproduction.”

“I understand what this has to do with me, but I’m less clear on what that has to do with you.”

Harth hesitated, his feelings still a mire of heartsickness and guilt.

“Antilli was egg-bound when she...”

“Harth...” 

Gesane’s expression reflected the same pity as everyone else—usually right before they told him it was in no way his fault or it was just an act of the goddess.

“Please—just...no one will let me say it,” said Harth, suddenly wanting to confess his pain to anyone, “we were trying to have another child and it cost her her life.”

As they stopped on the rainy boardwalk in front of Gesane’s roost, Harth could see the younger Rito had no idea how to respond to this.

“I’m alright,” Harth told him, immediately regretting opening up, “you don’t have to say anything.”

Harth had not been prepared to even speak about Antilli until recently, but on those rare occasions that he did, he found he was met with glazed expressions and uncomfortable fidgeting. Granted, Gesane was in no shape to hear any of this given his earlier trial and Harth was sorry to have burdened him with it.

“Well, if you feel you must stay,” conceded Gesane, bending down to undo the toggle that held the curtain shut on his roost.

“What is that smell?” Harth gasped as they entered the roost.

“Perhaps something got trapped and died.”

Gesane covered the back of his beak with his clipped wing and looked under the shelves in his tiny roost. Harth glanced up and thought Gesane’s hammock appeared rather occupied. He tilted it a little with his wing to get a good look inside.

“Goddess, that’s a fox,” Harth exclaimed, letting the hammock go in surprise.

Gesane stood and took in the sight of the bloody carcass in his bedding. He stepped back, his wings shook as he stared at the poor creature, the hammock still swinging grotesquely under its weight.

“Who would have...” Gesane trailed off.

“I suspect it will be easy to find out.”

“You were right...to be here...” said Gesane, his voice taught with distress, “there is something symbolic about dead mammal in my hammock.”

Gesane held his head as he tried to keep calm. Harth fixated on the weirdly sharp look of his clipped-wings.

“I’m too tired for this tonight” said Harth, “come, stay at my roost and we can see to this tomorrow.”

Gesane just stood, trying to catch his breath. It appeared that everything had caught up with him in this single macabre display. Harth put a hand on his shoulder and urged him toward the door.

“Gesane,” Harth encouraged, “don’t worry about this right now, let’s go.”

Harth escorted Gesane up the rain slicked boardwalk to his roost. Once inside, Harth fastened the curtain behind him. Gesane still shook mutely in the middle of the room, water droplets sliding off his feathers. Harth pulled the guest hammock from a chest and strung it beside his. 

“C’mon,” said Harth, his hand on the hammock, “let’s end this terrible day.”

The guard remained frozen to the spot, staring vacantly through the roost at nothing in particular. Harth stood before Gesane and cautiously rested his wings on his shoulders.

“What have I done?” whispered Gesane in horror.

“Don’t do this; you’re through it.”

“Am I to be mocked and harassed for the rest of my days?”

“This looks bad right now,” said Harth as he wrapped a wing around the back of Gesane’s neck to try and calm him as Teba had after the hearing, “but it’s going to be easier to face after you’ve had some rest.”

Gesane grasped Harth’s wings as he slid to the floor, unable to fight the misery that descended upon him. As he eased him down, Harth realized that the nonchalance Gesane had adopted with Ariane earlier had been entirely for her benefit and he was still just as broken as he had been the moment Teba had cast down the shears. Harth could hardly blame him; he would have been equally devastated to have his ability to fly taken from him in such a display of public humiliation. He was still shocked that they had decided on such an antiquated punishment.

“I can’t do this,” Gesane wept as he curled into a ball on his side.

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Harth, reaching for a cushion to place beneath Gesane’s head.

“I wanted to be exiled! I wanted to leave this! Now, I am bound here by my useless wings!”

Harth sat behind Gesane, silently stroking the guard’s shoulder while he spiralled in his anguish. 

“You’re going to be alright,” Harth told him as he tucked the spare blanket around him, “you’ll feel better after you sleep.”

Harth was so exhausted he felt he could barely sit up any longer. He lay back on the slightly damp rug beside Gesane and rested his heavy wing on his shoulder.

“Close your eyes,” Harth said as he stopped fighting to keep his own open, “nothing will happen to you here.”

oOo

The next morning, Harth awoke on the floor, still uncomfortably damp from last night’s rain. The little bit of dim light which made it through the curtains lit his roost enough for him to see that Gesane still slept deeply on the floor beside him. Given the state he had been in the night before, Harth was inclined to let the guard sleep off his ordeal.

Harth pushed himself up from the floor and crept from the roost, leaving the curtains shut so Gesane would not be disturbed. The heavy rain of the night before had left the boardwalk damp, but the sky had cleared and a cool breeze blew through the village. He stretched his stiff neck and took the stairs up to Teba’s roost. 

“Dad!” shouted Molli, leaping into his arms.

“Morning, Acorn,” he said, running his beak over her crest, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you last night.”

“That’s alright, Saki told us the story about the lizalfos king!”

“That sounds like quite a bedtime story.”

“We’re going to catch lizards today!” she said, squirming to get down.

“Well, good luck,” he said as Molli grabbed Tulin’s wing and dragged him down the boardwalk, “be careful!”

“Harth, you look a sight,” said Saki.

Harth glanced over toward Kaneli’s roost, but saw he did not occupy his usual seat. How Teba and Saki managed living so close to the elder he would never understand.

“I slept on the floor,” Harth admitted, rubbing at the pinch in his neck.

“Did Gesane not have a spare hammock?” she asked.

“Actually,” said Harth, glancing to where Teba sat silently, “we had to leave Gesane’s roost. Someone did something...threatening.”

“Who?” asked Teba.

“I don’t know, but we should visit his roost...you need to see it.”

“Where is Gesane now?”

“My roost...he almost certainly needs a few days away from his post,” Harth said carefully.

“I will discuss it with him,” said Teba, rising, “let’s go.”

“I’m coming with you,” said Saki.

The three of them made their way down the boardwalk to Gesane’s roost on the lowest level. As Harth drew aside the curtain and they stepped inside, Saki covered her beak with her wing at the acrid scent.

“They left a bloody fox in his bed,” Harth said, tilting the hammock to show them the evidence.

“By the smell, I’m not certain it was dead when it came in here,” said Saki.

“But the message is quite clear,” said Teba darkly.

They turned as Gesane pulled aside the curtain and stood frozen in the entry way. He looked alarmed to see so many people crowded in his tiny roost. His initial surprise degraded into embarrassment as he set eyes on Harth. Harth wanted to assure him that he had no reason to feel ashamed, but he didn’t want to bring up the events of the night before in front to Saki and Teba.

“You don’t need to be in here,” Gesane said, avoiding eye-contact as he opened the curtains to air out the stench of animal urine, “I can handle this on my own.”

“You don’t have to do this on your own,” Harth told Gesane.

“We’ll find out who did this,” said Teba.

“Why bother?” said Gesane listlessly, “Kaneli will just ignore it.”

Harth was not sure how to respond to this, but was saved from doing so as Verla poked his head into the already crowded roost.

“Hey, I—whoa, that’s...” Verla covered his beak.

“Verla, what do you want?” asked Teba sharply.

“That Hylian kid is looking for Harth,” said Verla.

“For me?” he asked, confused.

“Says he needs a bow made. He’s waiting at your roost,” shrugged Verla.

“Alright, give me a moment...”

“Go,” said Teba, “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I can stay and help with this,” Saki said reassuringly.

Harth headed up to his roost, a little relieved to have some space from Gesane. Perhaps it wasn’t fair for Harth to think that Teba could have done anything differently the night of the hearing, but Harth was more than willing to let him take his turn keeping an eye on the devastated warrior.

When he arrived at his roost, Link was standing outside. He was grateful that Gesane had tied back the curtains so that the gentle breeze could air out the dampness from the night before.

“Go on in,” Harth invited him with an open-wing.

“I need a Great Eagle Bow,” said Link without preface.

“I need some materials—”

Harth had not even finished his statement before Link had dropped some wood and a swallow bow on the floor of his roost and assuredly handed him a diamond. Teba had mentioned that Link was not much of a talker.

“Wow, are you sure you want to part with this?” Harth asked, staring at the diamond.

Link nodded seriously.

“Alright,” said Harth, “I need some time. I can have it done by tomorrow morning if that works?”

Link nodded again and turned to leave.

“The Rito who sits on the landing near the inn...what’s his name?” asked Link, turning back to Harth as though he had just remembered something important.

“Fyson.”

“...name ends in ‘son’.”

“What?”

But when Harth looked up, Link had already left.

oOo

In the few days since the storm had blown through Rito Village, Amali had noticed that one of the floorboards in her roost was no longer level. Having tripped over it for the fourth time, she decided that it could no longer wait. She had rolled back the rug and pulled out every tool she and Kass owned in hopes that it would be an easy fix.

“Amali.”

Mazli stood at the door, a confused expression on his face. She stood and brushed off her wings, somewhat glad for the interruption.

“What is it Mazli?”

“There are two—I thought they were Hylians, but they said they’re Sheikah—waiting at the stable for you.”

It seemed to Amali that there were an awful lot of unusual travellers in the area these days. Link had even returned once more a few days ago and left with one of the finest bows Harth had ever crafted. Amali had run into the reticent Hylian at the cooking pot as her girls begged him to raise another shrine.

“They’re waiting for _me_?” Amali clarified skeptically.

“Yes, they even asked for you by name. Apparently, they’ve been sent to bring some books for Kass,” said Mazli.

“How many is ‘some’?”

“It looks like a lot,” said Mazli, “you may need some help to get them back here.”

Amali went to the railing of the roost and whistled up toward the stack where the shrine glowed a peaceful blue. Five little heads peeped over the edge.

“What?” shouted Genli belligerently.

“You want to go to the stable with me?” she called.

“Really?”

“I wanna go!”

“I _love_ the stable!”

“Go to Revali’s Landing. I’ll meet you there,” she told them.

“Seems like you’ve just tricked them into doing work,” said Mazli.

Amali rested her wing on Mazli’s shoulder with a small smile.

“Mazli, if you’re lucky you and Laissa will have one or two children. And if the Goddess has singled you out to suffer, you will have five...but at least you will always have a team of movers at your disposal.”

Amali set out for the landing. As she approached their meeting spot, she saw her children talking to—or rather at—Harth and Molli. Amali was not sure that she was in the mood for Harth, though it was rarely the case that she was.

“I hear you’re going to the stable,” he said.

“Yes. It seems some books have been sent for Kass,” she said.

“Do you need any help?”

Amali blinked in surprise at Harth’s offer.

“Why not,” she acquiesced.

Amali watched as Molli scrambled onto Harth’s back and gripped his cuirass. As they set out for the stable, Amali had to remind Genli not to plummet down into the updrafts and catch the currents back up when she almost knocked Kotts from the sky. Glancing back at Harth, she could see that her daughter’s reckless flying had scared him nearly as much as it had her.

“Genli, you’d better enjoy this fight,” she warned, “because for the next five days you will be walking everywhere.”

As they reached the stable, Amali spotted two Sheikah standing a little way from the stable with a wagon. They both had youthful faces—from what little Amali could see with their silks drawn up to their cheekbones—and wore the tight-fitting stealth gear that Kass had sometimes described. As the party landed, one of the Sheikah stepped forward.

“I’m Taglis,” she said, “and this is Venton.”

The other Sheikah greeted them with a quick jerk of his head. Amali nodded at both.

“Is one of you Amali?”

“I am,” said Amali stepping forward.

“Lady Impa has instructed that we are to entrust this to no one but you,” said Taglis.

“I’m afraid they don’t allow wagons across the bridges,” said Amali, “but I’ve brought help—Kheel get away from the horses!”

Kheel backed away from the frightened horses as Ariane stepped in to calm them. Amali looked up to see that both Taglis and Venton were watching the children with that same wondrous look that Hylians seemed to get the first time they saw a Rito child.

“Are they all yours?” asked Taglis.

“Get off the woodpile!” Amali called, and turned back to Taglis “just the five who are destroying the stable...though Kass is partially to blame.”

“Kass is well-loved in our village,” she said, “it’s gratifying to see his family.”

“Excuse me,” said Amali, stepping away from Taglis, “get over here! You need to come carry some books for your father!” 

“We will assist you,” offered Taglis, “we are intrigued by your village and wish to visit if we are welcome.”

“Certainly,” agreed Amali.

Between Amali, Harth, the six children, and two Sheikah, they managed to distribute the entirety of books. As they crossed the bridge, Amali saw that Gesane had returned to his post after his harrowing ordeal. Cree drew close to her as Gesane passed by on his patrol. The little blue Rito stared at Gesane’s clipped wings with sadness in her eyes and looked up at Amali.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” Amali said firmly, glancing at the Sheikah who followed Harth and Molli onto the first stack.

“Fyson said Teba did it,” said Genli, not quite out of Gesane’s earshot.

“What did I just say?” Amali asked sharply.

Though the children did not make another peep about Gesane’s wings, Amali found herself wishing—as she often did—that Kass were around to handle some of these difficult situations. She worried that she would be a desiccated husk of a person by the time that he returned home.

When they arrived at Amali’s roost, she recalled that she had left the rug rolled back and the tools on the floor.

“I’m sorry about the mess, please, just put the books anywhere,” Amali told them, embarrassed by the chaos of her roost.

“Your village is truly unique,” said Venton, gazing out at the landscape from the boardwalk.

“I imagine you’re the first Sheikah to have visited in the last century,” said Amali, “we have an inn near the village entrance if you wish to stay for a while.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“It was good to meet you,” said Taglis as she and Venton took the stairs down the boardwalk.

As the Sheikah disappeared from sight, Harth turned and scooped up his daughter in his wings and stared at the floorboard which jutted upward.

“Do you need any help with this?” he asked.

“It’s a small fix, I have it in hand,” she said cautiously.

“Well, should you need anything,” said Harth as Molli scrambled onto his shoulders and they headed out onto the boardwalk.

“Are you alright, Harth?” she asked tentatively, concerned by his unusual amicability.

“Actually...I think I am,” he said.

“I’m glad,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she believed him, “thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” he said as he headed back up the boardwalk.

Amali watched after him, wondering if the day was drawing near that he would finally hit that awful wave of grief that comes just as you’ve begun to heal. She sighed, there was nothing she could do for Harth, so she returned to her roost to address what had happened on the bridge.

“I think we need to have a discussion about what happened to Gesane,” Amali said, turning to her children.

“Did it hurt when they clipped his wings?” asked Cree, always worried about others and anxious to know that the guard was alright.

“No. It didn’t hurt his wings, but it might have hurt him inside, like when your feelings get hurt,” said Amali, trying to put it in terms they could understand.

“They did it because he loves Ariane,” said Notts, strangely unbothered by the whole thing.

“If I were a warrior I would never let them do that to me,” said Genli.

“Gesane accepted his punishment. It would have been a stain on his honour not to,” Amali tried to explain, but the traditions that governed their lives had begun to sound foolish and archaic as she said them aloud.

“But what if I fall in love with a Hylian?” fretted Cree.

“You’re far too young to worry about that,” said Amali, “but because this hurt Gesane’s feelings, it’s probably a good idea to give him some time to feel better. Do you understand? Don’t bother him.”

While Amali could hardly condone wasting oneself with a Hylian after the torment of hatching five eggs, she thought she might understand. It was hardly Gesane’s fault that no one could seem to produce offspring and yet he had become the target of everyone’s ire for shirking his duty. Kaneli seemed to think the poor fertility rates had something to do with shrinking bloodlines. Amali worried what that might mean for her girls in the future given their diverse parentage.

“Amali, I need your help!” shouted Cecili as she ran into the roost and grasped Amali’s wing.

“Tell me what’s going on,” said Amali insisted, following as Cecili pulled her down the boardwalk.

“Fyson’s been granted permission to leave,” she told her, “Misa’s lost it.”

Amali pulled her wing from Cecili’s grip and picked up the pace down to the Slippery Falcon. As she arrived, she saw Fyson standing with his wings crossed at the back of the shop, trying desperately not to give into his mother.

“Misa,” said Amali, stepping in between them.

“He’s leaving me!” Misa sobbed.

Misa crumbled against Amali’s shoulder and Amali wrapped her in her wings.

“Fyson, be elsewhere for a bit,” Amali said told him.

Fyson left quickly with his head down.

“I’ll kill Kaneli!” Misa wept.

“That won’t solve anything...”

“He’s allowing him to leave for eight summers!”

“That seems a lot,” Amali said, mostly to herself.

“There won’t be anyone of marriageable age for Fyson before then!”

This realization chilled Amali; it was the year that Tulin, Molli and her girls would be old enough to marry. Amali had been trying not to think of the impending reality of that day.

“Misa, he’s not a child anymore.”

“How can you possibly understand? You have five children and a living husband! Fyson is the only thing in the world I have left!”

“That’s not true,” said Amali, holding Misa in her wings, “and if you treat him like this when he’s about to leave he won’t come back.”

“He’s bound by oath!”

“A few years out in the world and that oath may not matter anymore.”

“He is so like his father!” cried Misa, hot tears spilling from her eyes to Amali’s shoulder.

“What is it he says he wants to do out in the world?” Amali asked calmly.

“Start a shop in some fledgling town on the other side of the continent.”

“That sounds rather more like you than Genik.”

Misa laughed bitterly, wiping at her tears.

“I know this is difficult. I can’t imagine how difficult,” Amali said, stepping back from Misa and holding her wings, “but don’t scare Fyson off with anger. It’s already too late to stop him, just let him know he can always come home.”

“You know,” said Misa, gently pulling away, “I never let other people talk to me like this.”

“Well, other people aren’t family...I’m afraid no one knows you as well as I do, for whatever that’s worth.”

oOo

It had taken Fyson three days to work up the courage to come to Kaneli with his proposal to go to Tarry Town. After witnessing Gesane’s punishment, he had wanted to flee; he had grown frightened and no longer felt safe in the village he had called home his entire life. 

He had dreamt that night that he was in Gesane’s place, Harth restraining him roughly while Teba stretched out his wing and sheared away the feathers. Fyson knew that it had not happened with such violence, but he had fled the sight with Verla and Cecili the moment Teba had made the first cut. The dream had so affected his sense of reality, that he had avoided even speaking to Harth since that night.

When Fyson finally approached Kaneli, the elder had been surprisingly receptive to the idea. There were conditions—just as Harth had warned there would be—but Fyson thought they could be easily met. The first condition was that he would be allowed to live outside of Rito Village until the end of eight summers, when he would be expected to return and marry. The thought of marriage filled him with dread, but eight years was a long time, and perhaps when he was older he would be better equipped to deal with that eventuality. 

The second condition was a common condition for both exiles and those who travelled outside of Rito territory—if any Rito from outside of their tribe were encountered, the traveller was to find out where their settlement was and to return home with the news. Given that this had never happened before, Fyson was doubtful it would happen to him.

After Amali’s intervention, Fyson found himself aimless on the boardwalk. He reluctantly decided he ought to tell Kass and Amali’s kids that he was leaving. Somehow, facing this felt so much more difficult than facing his mother. He found them in their roost, banging on a loose floorboard with a variety of tools.

“Should you really be doing that?” he asked.

“You can help us, Fyson,” said Kotts.

Fyson crouched down beside the banged-up floorboard. Amali was going to be furious when she saw this.

“I don’t think anyone is going to be able to help you when your mom sees this,” he told them, “maybe you should put down the tools. I have to talk to you.”

They obliged, and asked him what was going on in their usual habit of all talking at the same time. He took a deep breath as he looked into the eager little faces. He had known them since before they had even had feathers and loved them as though they were his own sisters.

“I’m...leaving,” he said.

They all chattered at him in that cacophonous manner they had. All, save Genli. The little green Rito crossed her wings and glared at Fyson as tears built in her eyes. It was her words that cut through the noise of her sisters’ chatter.

“I hate you!” she shouted at him before running from the roost.

“Genli!” he called after her as she leapt from the boardwalk and took flight.

“Genli, you’re grounded! You’re not supposed to be flying!” Notts shouted after her.

“Stay here,” Fyson told the other four as he took flight from the ledge at the back of the roost and followed Genli.

Genli landed at the Warbler’s Nest a little before he did. She scrambled between the oddly-shaped pillars and up to the shrine. Fyson followed at a walk, trying not to upset her anymore than she already was.

“Stop following me, traitor!” she shouted back at him.

“Genli, it’s getting late. Your mom is going to be furious if you don’t come home.”

“I don’t care! You said you weren’t leaving only a few days ago!”

“I know.”

“You lied!”

“I wasn’t lying at the time,” he said as she hid in the entrance of the shrine, “I didn’t know I would actually leave until today.”

“Just leave me alone! It’s what you’re going to do anyway.!”

Genli wrapped her wings around herself and sat back against the slippery interior of the shrine. Fyson followed cautiously and sat down across from her.

“We all have to leave the nest sometime,” he said.

She just glared at him, clearly no more impressed with the platitude than his mother had been.

“You can give me the silent treatment if you want,” he said, “but that just means you don’t get to say goodbye.”

They sky was growing dark, and Fyson wished that Genli’s tantrum would reach its conclusion so he could take her back home. If they were lucky, they would make it back before Amali returned to the roost.

“Fine, Genli,” Fyson said at last in what was probably an obvious feint, “stay out here in the dark all night.”

As he stepped from the rocks which surrounded the foot of shrine, three stalmoblins erupted from the ground. Behind him, Genli screamed and Fyson lamented that it wasn’t his habit to carry a weapon. As he tried to stand between her and the ghastly creatures, one reached out and flung him aside with one swipe of its long arm. Fyson came to a stop against one of the pillars in front of the shrine, reeling from the impact. He cursed that this was how he would die—on the verge of freedom and with Genli following shortly behind.

To his complete astonishment, one stalmoblin’s head was knocked straight off its spinal column. Fyson looked up as he heard a screech above as the second and third ones quickly followed. Headless, the monsters crumbled to dust and fangs. If he was surprised that he was not dead, it was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when he realized his saviour was none other than Amali, wielding a swallow bow that was wrapped in the same patterns of faded cord as his own.

She landed at the shrine where Genli nearly knocked her down as she leapt into her wings. 

“Mama, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Genli wept.

“I imagine you are. We’ll talk about it at home.”

She carried her daughter in one wing as she slung her bow and made her way over to Fyson and crouched beside him.

“Fyson, are you hurt?” she asked.

“A little bruised,” he gasped, holding his side as he took her wing and she helped him stand.

“Can you fly?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...just need to catch my breath.”

He followed Amali to the cliff’s edge over Lake Totori, his head still spinning from recent events.

“How did you learn to fight like that?” he asked her in amazement.

“I practised with Genik,” she said, “from the time I could hold a bow.”

Fyson stared at the bow she had slung on her back and realized it was meant to be the sibling to the one he had inherited. The abstract notion Fyson had always had of Amali and Genik’s relationship became tangible in that moment. He had never had a sibling, but if he had lost Genli he would be devastated. How could he have never before understood that the same was true for Amali? 

“I wish I could have learned with him,” said Fyson, thinking bitterly of the patchwork of lessons he had been taking with Harth.

Amali stopped and put her wing around the back of his neck. Normally, Fyson would try to shrug out of Amali’s grip, but it wasn’t with her usual perpetual sadness that her eyes met his.

“Your father was good with a bow, there’s no denying that...but he was most loved for his compassion. Don’t ever forget that he would have taught you that before you even notched an arrow.”

Fyson nodded, worried that he might weep on this strange occasion that Amali’s eyes were perfectly clear.

“You’ve grown into a good man, Fyson. When you came to help us the night that Teba fought Medoh...I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable when I called you by your father’s name. It’s just that...what you did—thinking of others in a time of danger—was so like him. He would be so very proud of you right now.”

Fyson wiped at the building tears in his eyes and Amali wrapped him in her free wing. He wrapped his wings around her for the first time that he could remember. How bitter it was that he was only realizing on the verge of his departure that Amali could have shared so much more with him, if he had only let her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	9. Inside Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teba’s image is still spoiled from the events following Gesane’s hearing; Kass investigates a light on Lake Akkala; Saki has a suggestion for Teba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ask you to indulge a small tweak to the timeline: Kass does not return home and talk to Link about Zelda until after the Champions’ Ballad DLC...I mean...it’s not a tweak at all if you forgot that you didn’t talk to Kass in Pagos Woods after you accidentally ended up up at the Spring of Courage after a paragliding mishap because you were trying to play without the map...but that’s maybe a me problem.
> 
> Champions' Ballad DLC spoilers ahead.

Teba would never say it aloud, but he had been quite disturbed by the fox left in Gesane’s roost. When asked, Gesane had acted as though the incident was behind him, but Gesane’s dismissal did little to halt Teba’s desire to resolve the matter.

Teba waited for Mazli at the guard’s post that evening in an effort to return to some sort of normal routine. He had noticed that Mazli and Gesane had stopped coming to submit their evening reports together—a habit that they had kept up while Teba had taken reports on Revali’s Landing. Though he was almost certain something had transpired between them, Teba hated to meddle in the affairs of others if it was not interfering with their duties as warriors.

“Teba,” said Mazli in surprise as he returned from the bridge, “My watch isn’t over. Raza hasn’t even arrived yet.”

“I have a few matters to discuss with you.”

Mazli gestured for Teba to proceed.

“Kaneli has some concerns about a dragon that’s been spotted in the canyon.”

“A dragon?” asked Mazli, a skeptical smile on his face.

Teba waited for this to sink in a little, his expression unchanged.

“Oh, you’re not being funny,” said Mazli as the smile melted a little, “of course you’re not...”

“Are you finished?”

Mazli nodded without a hint of contrition.

“Kaneli has requested that I send a warrior to observe the dragon and—if necessary—alert the village if it poses any threat to us.”

Mazli grumbled in annoyance as it dawned on him that Teba was selecting him for this task.

“I’m going to be eaten alive, aren’t I?” he lamented.

“You don’t have to engage the dragon,” said Teba irately, “just observe it. You head out tomorrow.”

The guard sighed in disgust as Teba turned to leave. Mazli’s attitude only served to inflame Teba’s ire He turned back and rounded on Mazli, who gave ground to Teba’s sudden advance.

“Another thing,” said Teba, “did you put a dead fox in Gesane’s roost?”

“What?” asked Mazli, “absolutely not! Who would do that?”

“Someone did, and I’m surprised you have no information on this as you’re usually a well of salacious nonsense.”

“If you must know,” said Mazli aggressively, “I’m disgusted by what happened to Gesane, and I wouldn’t do anything to cause him further harm. And at the risk of you losing your temper again—I think that you forfeited your right to lead the warriors the moment you took the shears to one of them.”

“Fortunately, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” said Teba as he tried to maintain an even tone.

Teba was still appalled that he had let himself be convinced that it had to come to that. He had spent the intervening days trying to reason a way out of the whole thing, but he found that he had not realized how deeply he was entangled in that mess of injustice until the moment he had held the shears in his hand.

“What I do want from you is anything you may know about this incident,” Teba clarified.

“Here’s what I know,” said Mazli, “Bedoli feels humiliated that Gesane jilted her for a Hylian. Huck is trying to court Bedoli. And Huck is the biggest vent I’ve ever met.”

“Do you have any proof it was Huck?”

“No proof...but I’d stake my right wing on it." 

“Did you and Gesane fall out?” Teba asked against his better judgment.

“If you ask him...we were never friends, so I guess we couldn’t have.”

Teba was surprised by the bitterness in Mazli’s tone.

“If you hear anything about the incident before you depart, let me know. Don’t gossip.”

Teba took off from the stack to meet Gesane for his report and pretended he couldn’t hear the obscenities Mazli had uttered under his breath when he had turned his back. He wasn’t entirely sure he blamed the guard. 

As Teba thought of the First Warriors he had flown under who had lost the trust of their warriors, he grew uneasy. He doubted Mazli would challenge him for the position and neither Harth nor Gesane were in any shape to do so...as for Guy, Teba wasn’t entirely certain that he still lived. It was the lack of trust that Teba now saw festering in his relationships with the warriors and guards that concerned him. He only wish he knew how to remedy it.

oOo

It had been late afternoon when Kass played Mipha’s Ballad for Link on the slick rock beside Vah Ruta. As he had listened, the Hylian had seemed overwhelmed by a faraway look in his eyes. When Kass asked about it, Link just shook his head and left Kass standing next to placid figure of the Divine Beast.

When Kass had spoken to the Zora, he could see that the pain of their lost princess was still real and visceral for so many who had known her. The devastation of the Calamity still lived with these people in a way that Kass had not even known among the long-lived Sheikah who could still recall it. Though Kass had come into Zora’s Domain hoping to find a way to celebrate the life of their Champion, he left with a renewed understanding of the despair the Calamity had caused a century before.

As he set out for Death Mountain, he felt as though he was taking a little of the Zora’s pain along with him. Though eager to finish the ballads that Olin had left incomplete, the exhaustion that weighed upon his soul made him realize he might need a short reprieve from this heart-breaking task. 

It was growing dark as he veered in flight towards Akkala, hoping to find company among Hylians whose sorrow over the Calamity had dried up a generation ago. He had thought to seek shelter at South Akkala Stable, but as he flew over the blue tower that stood tall in the ruins of the Akkala Citadel, a sparkle of light on Lake Akkala caught his eye. He hadn’t ventured to Akkala since he was a child, but he was certain that these lights had never been accounted for on any of his maps.

As he dipped over the lake to investigate, Kass was astonished to see that a small settlement rested atop the round pillar of rock that jutted out of the water. As he circled, Kass observed the style of building to be Hylian. Cautiously, he set down at the the town’s omphalos—the trickling fountain and warm lights which framed the effigy of the Goddess.

Kass glanced about the town at Hylians who milled casually about. No one seemed bothered by his presence beyond a quick glance to acknowledge a newcomer in their midst. He knelt for a moment in front of the stone statue and splashed water over his face and head in purification as the Sheikah did before prayer. Though he was still new to this, Kass closed his eyes and prayed for the well-being of those he loved.

He wiped a bead of water from his beak as he rose and his eyes came to rest upon a Gerudo, standing tall behind her shop table. He was surprised to see her living among Hylians, but he dismissed it, aware that Gerudo ventured all across Hyrule pursuing love. Less common in this region were the Gorons who sat by a wares table of gems, and even more shocking was the elderly Zora who swept the steps of the inn.

“What is this place?” Kass asked no one in particular.

“Kass?”

Kass looked up when he heard his name. For a panicked moment, Kass wondered if he had somehow fallen to his death; through the peaceful glow of the lamplight he thought he saw Genik’s sea green plumage. As his fatigued mind caught up with reality, he realized that he had been spotted by someone nearly as unlikely. Fyson left his wares table to throw his wings around Kass. Kass clasped Fyson numbly, still not entirely sure where he was or what was happening.

“Fyson,” he said holding him at wing’s length, “where are we?”

“Tarrey Town” said Fyson, his face bright with delight, “did you not mean to come here?”

“I don’t—what are you doing so far from home?”

“There’s a lot I need to tell you,” said Fyson, “but you should meet everyone.”

Kass was still a little overwhelmed as Fyson pulled him along to meet Rondson and Hudson. He feared that Greyson might have broken his bones with his hearty slap on the back and politely declined Pelison’s sales pitch. As they made their ware back to the wares table, Kass lost track of the Hylians’ names that he greeted.

By the time Fyson began to pack away his wares for the night, Kass was just starting to catch up with everything.

“I can’t believe this place,” breathed Kass, still awestruck by the incredible openness beyond the circle of rock, “that you all might live here together...this is more marvellous than I ever could have imagined.”

“Why shouldn’t we all live together?”

“How did your mother take you leaving?” Kass evaded, grateful that Fyson had no inkling of the horrors Kass had known.

“Not great...better than I thought she would after Amali intervened,” said Fyson.

Fyson lifted his bag of wares and gestured that they were headed for the inn.

“Is Amali well? And the girls?” Kass asked as he followed him to one of the strikingly painted buildings.

“Yeah, I thought Amali seemed well...she saved my life actually. Genli was upset that I left, but everyone seemed alright otherwise.”

As they entered the inn, the venerable Zora behind the counter greeted Fyson by name.

“Kapson, this is Kass.”

“You can hang your hammock with Fyson’s and I’ll offer you the friends and family rate,” said Kapson with a sharp grin.

“That’s very generous,” said Kass, not sure if he was joking.

Kass followed Fyson up the narrow stairs to where his hammock was hung at the end of the narrow hallway. Above it, Fyson had hung a double string of beaded leather with two white pigeon feathers. The tiny vestige of home made Kass’s heart ache.

“Kapson rents this room to me,” said Fyson as he set his wares neatly in the corner, “but here’s the best part.”

Kass followed Fyson out onto the darkened balcony overlooking the fountain at the town centre. Kass sat down at the low table with Fyson, admiring the way the warm lantern light sparkled off of the water in the fountain. The peace of this place helped Kass to assuage the dolour he had taken with him from Zora’s Domain. 

“Fyson, this is wonderful. You’ve done so well for yourself,” Kass said.

Fyson looked proud for a moment before the expression disintegrated into one of conflict.

“Kass, it’s been so...frightening in the village.”

“Here?” Kass asked, worried, “did someone do something to you?”

“No...Rito Village, before I left.”

“Medoh’s quiet,” said Kass confused, “hat’s happened?”

Fyson covered his face for a moment and smoothed his hands back over his crest, setting his braids swinging.

“Gesane was seeing that woman at the stable.”

“Yes,” said Kass.

“You knew?”

Kass nodded. Fyson took a deep breath before he let everything tumble forth in a rush.

“He was found out and they had a hearing and my mother was one of the arbiters and they voted to clip his wings...Kass, it was so awful! As soon as Link told me about this I was ready to go but—”

“Fyson, slow down.”

“Harth held him while Teba clipped his wings...and I’m certain that my mother voted in favour of the punishment...” 

Fyson said it all in a panic, as if it were the first time he was realizing any of it aloud. Kass imagined it probably was. He sat quietly as Fyson regained control of himself. Kass had been disturbed by the callousness of what the Rito called justice as well, but he had witnessed an exile. That wing-clipping had been allowed as a punishment—and that Teba and Harth had enacted it—made him want to turn west and get to the bottom of it all.

“How could Mom do that? How is that fair? Just knowing that she thought that makes me feel sick.”

“Fyson,” sighed Kass, “I cannot explain the Rito system of justice to you, because I have always thought it unnecessarily harsh. Of your mother...I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Out here...I worry I might do the same thing as Gesane—fall in love with a Hylian. I thought it sounded absolutely insane when I first heard it, but the more I live among other people, the more plausible it sounds.”

“It’s not so unusual to fall in love outside of your own people,” said Kass, “and I would support and defend you if you did.”

“My own mother wouldn’t...”

“But your father would,” Kass told him firmly, “and I know I’ve been a poor substitute—”

“No, Kass, you’ve always been good to me.”

“Just remember, I will always be there for you.”

Fyson shook his head.

“I know that you want to be,” said Fyson, “but, I’m an adult now. I understand that it’s not always possible to be there, no matter how much you might want to be.”

The sadness in Fyson’s tone cut through Kass—or perhaps it was the truth of what he said. Kass had thought that he could give Fyson some tiny piece of his father—someone upon whom he could rely—but shamefully, Kass knew he could not even offer that to his own children right now. Full of bitterness, he stood and rested a wing on Fyson’s shoulder for a moment.

“I have to be on my way in the morning,” said Kass, turning back to the inn, “I need some rest.”

oOo

The morning was as pleasant and clear as most summer mornings in Rito Village were. After his discussion with Mazli the night before, Teba had thought to go question Huck about the incident in Gesane’s roost to see what he might shake loose from the Brazen Beak caller. Teba imagined he would have his answer quickly—Huck was rarely subtle.

When Harth had caught him on the boardwalk with two falcon bows in hand, Teba realized he had little chance of doing this quickly or alone.

“Did you make these?” Teba asked, tamping down his impatience.

“This one is my father’s design,” said Harth holding up the aged bow, “I’ve tried to replicate it so I can use it at the challenge...”

Teba glanced impatiently down the boardwalk as Harth compared the bows. He was certain that Huck would soon be at at the shop and Teba had hoped to avoid Nekk; the tailor usually just made matters worse.

“Teba, you’re not even listening. What’s going on?”

“It was suggested to me that Huck might have been our vandal,” said Teba, “I’m going to speak with him.”

“Do you want me to join you?” asked Harth.

“May as well,” sighed Teba; he had been doomed to his company the moment Harth had stepped onto the boardwalk.

Teba did his best to wait patiently as Harth replaced the bows in his roost. When Harth returned, Teba noticed that one of his braids was coming unbound. As they made their way down the boardwalk Harth kept touching his face, and Teba knew he could not avoid this conversation any longer.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“Nothing...my eye is twitching.”

“Did you spend your whole night crafting that bow?” Teba asked carefully.

“I work best at night.”

Teba made a small noise of the affirmative.

“Why are you so concerned about it?” Harth asked, his eyes narrowed.

“I’m not,” Teba lied.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

Teba could see that Harth was plainly not fine, though he had no idea how to break through to him. Teba had tried his best to help him keep busy since his wife’s death, hoping that if Harth could just get through each day he might begin to heal. He had thought that the tendrils of grief which had seemed to trail from his friend had finally begun to disappear, but Harth’s feathers still looked dull and his expression always held a strange intensity that Teba had never seen before. It was as though his loss had broken him down and put him back together in such a way that he always looked ever so slightly _off_.

“Well, let’s talk to Huck then,” Teba conceded.

At least, Teba thought, if he kept Harth nearby he would know what he was up to. They approached the Brazen Beak where Huck was moving wares around inside as Nekk checked the ledger.

“We’re not open,” said Nekk.

“We’re not buying,” Teba told him, “just want speak with Huck.”

“Fine,” said Huck, straightening up, “speak your piece.”

“Are you certain you want to do this in front of Nekk?” Teba pressed, hoping he might lure him away from his employer.

“Oh, for Goddess sake!” snapped Nekk, “I’ve had enough of your shit, Teba!”

“I beg your pardon,” said Teba, his brow furrowing.

“You think we don’t know what this is about?” griped Nekk, though it appeared that Huck didn’t have any idea what this was about.

Teba glanced between Nekk and Huck. Harth crossed his wings.

“Alright Nekk,” said Teba, “what’s this about?”

“I would hazard that it has something to do with the carcass that turned up in that _mammal-fucker’s_ roost.”

“Alright, there’s no need for that kind of language,” said Harth.

“What, you don’t think that’s what he’s doing?” demanded Nekk, “he hasn’t even slept in his own hammock since his punishment, and you just let him go off and shame the warriors doing whatever the hell he wants!”

“As you are no longer a warrior, I don’t see how that concerns you,” said Teba.

“If he’s out there doing Goddess knows what with that Hylian, what was the point of even punishing him?” Nekk shouted.

“Might be that he didn’t want to share his hammock with a carcass,” shrugged Harth.

“He got what he deserved,” scoffed Huck.

“He didn’t deserve that,” said Harth defensively.

“Harth, don’t be an idiot,” snapped Nekk, “you of all people should know that no one gets what they deserve! Huck’s betrothed left him waiting by the statue, one stray arrow made me unmarriageable, and when your wife died she took your last hopes for happiness along with her!” 

Nekk had never held back in all the years Teba had known him. Teba glanced at Harth’s strained expression. Though he tried to hide it, Teba could see by the tension in Harth’s shoulders that Nekk’s tirade had cut right to the source of his pain.

“What Gesane has done, and continues to do, spits in the face of everything that we have tried to build in the last two decades,” Nekk said, staring at Harth with a rancour, “he threw away the things that we could only hope to have.”

“Did one of you put a fox in Gesane’s hammock?” Teba asked bluntly, hoping to end this and get Harth away from here before he did anything he might regret.

“Get out of my shop, Teba. As you’ve pointed out, neither of us is one of your warriors and we don’t have to answer to you,” said Nekk.

As they left the shop, Teba could see Harth was still agitated, but he could not tell if that was solely a result of their conversation with Nekk. Teba watched in concern as Harth anxiously smoothed the feathers at the back of his next as they walked up the boardwalk.

“Are you alright?” Teba asked tentatively.

“I wish people would stop asking that!” Harth exploded.

“Perhaps if you’d give them an answer—”

“I said I’m fine! Why is that so hard for everyone to believe?” 

“Harth, stop. There’s no need to shout.”

Harth drew in a shaky breath as they continued up the boardwalk. They remained silent until they turned into Harth’s roost. Wood shavings were piled on a side-table and scattered on the floor around it—a testament to his night of bow-making.

“Gesane hasn’t been staying in his roost,” Teba recalled, “has he been staying with you?”

“Only the night after his punishment,” said Harth, “I’ve hardly seen him since then.”

“I’m certain it was Huck...Nekk would never do something so clumsy.”

“Based on Mazli’s word?” Harth asked raising his eyebrows skeptically, “who’s to say _he_ didn’t do it?”

“He said he didn’t. If he had, he would have likely given himself away by now.”

“It was raining that night,” said Harth suddenly.

“I recall.”

“Who closed up Gesane’s roost? I just assumed it had been you, since mine was closed as well.”

“I didn’t close your roost,” said Teba, “Saki must have.”

Truth be told, Teba had been so exhausted that when he had returned home that night, he had stripped out of his damp clothing, hung his cuirass to dry, and fallen into his hammock without a second thought to the rain.

“So we need to find out who would think to do that for Gesane. My roost was a little damp, so Saki must have remembered just as it started raining. Gesane’s was dry,” reasoned Harth.

As Teba watched Harth moving about his roost while he speculated, Teba wondered whether involving his friend in this may have been harmful. Harth cleaned frantically, sweeping up the wood shavings with a small straw hand-broom as he justified how it could have been anyone from Guy’s wife to the vandal themselves who had closed Gesane’s curtains. 

Teba had the unexpected urge to take the broom from Harth and wrap him in his wings until he stopped his frenzied speculations. He shook his head, wondering if Saki had finally got to him.

“It had to be Mazli,” Harth finally concluded.

“Mazli put the fox in his roost?” asked Teba, unable to keep up with Harth’s rambling logic, “I still don’t think—”

“No, he closed the roost...it seems like you’re not listening to me today.”

“Well, we can’t ask him,” sighed Teba, “he’s been sent to observe the dragon in the canyon.”

“I could go.”

“I don’t think so; when was the last time you slept a full night?”

Harth offered a non-committal look.

“Harth,” Teba said, gritting his beak at his own discomfort and pushing through, “I’m worried about you.”

“Stop—don’t,” protested Harth, shaking his head, “please. Not right now, I can’t do this right now.”

“I know that—”

“You don’t,” said Harth, his entire body stiff in his agitation, “you’re trying to help, but you don’t know. You couldn’t...nothing is going to help, so just let me be.”

Teba nodded; he had always let Saki deal with these things because he found he never knew how to. Standing in the roost that Harth and Antilli had shared for the last decade, Teba could feel the emptiness of it for the first time and realized once more that he had barely acknowledged his feelings about her passing. He had distracted himself with his own duties, had told himself that his loss could hardly compare to Saki or Harth’s sorrow.

“Harth, do you want to go test out your bow at the Flight Range?” he asked at last, “we can take Molli and Tulin.”

“What about this whole fox thing?”

“Nothing will change between now and tomorrow,” shrugged Teba, “and maybe then we can corner Huck without Nekk trying to distract us.”

“Alright,” agreed Harth, collecting the sling for his bow.

Teba clapped a wing on Harth’s shoulder as they left his roost.

oOo

Saki was strangely glad when Harth and Molli joined their family for an evening meal that night. Before Tulin and Molli had hatched, she and Teba had spent what time they had with Harth and Antilli. Saki was reminded of those better times that the four of them would forget the unsubtle reminders from Kaneli that they had a duty to reproduce; they would set aside the harshness of the world outside, rampant with monsters that could spell Teba or Harth’s death on any given night; for those few hours, Saki had always felt immersed in the warm glow of camaraderie. 

Perhaps, though, that was the beauty of memory. When she searched her mind a little harder, she recalled those golden evenings had been rare—Antilli and Harth were usually strained and sombre from having so many empty eggs; Teba was so frequently worn from flying patrols and training novices; Saki herself was often overwhelmed with her role as the only healer in the village.

This night, though, Harth seemed tired, but content as he held his daughter in his lap. Tulin excitedly recounted how he had used his father’s childhood bow to hit three targets. Even Teba seemed more relaxed than usual. Saki should have foreseen this all crashing down as their night together came to and end.

“Saki” said Harth as he stood at the door with Molli in his wings, “the night of the storm, did you close Gesane’s roost?”

“No, just yours,” she said, ignoring Teba’s agitated sigh behind her.

“Alright...well, goodnight.”

As Harth disappeared down the lamp-lit boardwalk, she turned to watch Teba as he tucked Tulin into his hammock and combed his beak over his crest. Tulin fell asleep quickly as Teba gathered his bow and blade to meet the guards for their evening reports. As he stepped out onto the boardwalk, his face contorted with pain and he leaned against the railing and held his leg.

“Get back in here,” Saki hissed.

“Saki, it’s fine.”

“Get. In. Here.”

Teba grimaced as he limped back into the roost.

“Let me see it,” Saki whispered so that she would not wake Tulin.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Teba responded in a low voice, but he exposed his leg as bidden.

There were a few bald patches where the feathers had not yet grown back, but his skin was fully healed where it had been burned. He suppressed a noise of protest as Saki probed the area, feeling for damage in the tissue and bone.

“I can’t find anything,” she told him as he straightened his clothes.

“I think that it may all be in my mind,” he admitted quietly, “but the pain feels real.”

“Is it all of the time?”

Teba shook his head.

“When does it happen?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Different times.”

“Such as?” she pressed.

Teba looked as though he would not answer for a moment before conquered his old habit of reticence under Saki’s persistent gaze.

“Whenever I have to take these evening reports, when I meet with Kaneli, all through the hearing...” he hesitated.

“Don’t stop now,” she encouraged him, “you’re doing so well.”

Teba took a deep breath. Getting him to speak about what went on in his mind was like drawing an arrow from a wound—met with great protest and best done in one go.

“It bothers me sometimes when I think that...Harth isn’t doing so well...Saki, I don’t know what to do for him,” said Teba, leaning back against the railing, “and now I have Gesane on my conscience and I have to face him every night...and someone has to go take Mazli supplies tomorrow, and I can’t send Gesane. Harth doesn’t sleep, so I don’t want him flying that far on his own, so I suppose it must be me...”

As Teba trailed off, Saki put her wings around him and touched her beak to his.

“What’s happening?” he asked, confused.

“I’m comforting you,” she said, shaking her head in surprise.

“This is difficult for me...saying these things aloud.”

“I know,” she told him, “but I admire that you’re trying.”

“I’m so overwhelmed,” he admitted for the first time in all the time she had known him, “everything I used to believe about my life and my role has been falling apart. You’re the only part of my life I still trust.”

“I have an idea,” she said, “but you’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t be angry.”

“I don’t know if I can make that promise...” he said flatly, “but I will consider what you have to say with an open mind.”

“I suppose that’s probably the best I could expect...”

“Saki, be quick, I have to meet the guards...”

“Step down from your role as First Warrior.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very early in ‘Age of Intolerance’ (ch 2) I made a decision that Rito don’t have a name or clear acknowledgement of consanguineous relationships beyond the 2nd degree (i.e. they don’t have a name for aunts/uncles and cousins) even though they keep track of common ancestors for the purpose of not inbreeding themselves to death. Theoretically, this helps them avoid a complicated web of family allegiances that might cause conflict (see ‘Age of Intolerance’ ch 22; Harth has no particular feelings of loyalty to Kyvoro, his father’s brother, but backs Teba because they came up together as warriors). 
> 
> Amali and Genik’s families were the oddballs in this arrangement because of Amali and Genik’s close relationship and Kass and Genik’s close friendship. This thing with Fyson feeling like he lives in his father’s shadow was baked-in really early on in ‘Turns our Hearts’ (before I ever thought I would write a character for Genik) and now it’s in the whole fabric of a bunch of characters and we all just have to live with it.
> 
> Anyway, there are a lot of reasons that Kass would have a strong relationship with Fyson and I thought Kass would be really delighted by Tarrey Town...that’s all.
> 
> If you’ve read my rant you are so very loved!
> 
> PS: If you want to know what happened to Nekk it will be in ‘The Chronicler’ in a few chapters...it won’t make you like him any better, but it’s my explanation for why I’ve left him without a mate.


	10. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teba considers Saki’s proposal and sets out to make things right with his guards; Harth receives an unexpected revelation.

Teba set out early in the day and followed the road east along the northern edge of Tanagar Canyon. The chill wind blew down from the Hebra range, but warmed as Teba neared the canyon. As he travelled, he wondered if Saki was right, perhaps he should step down from from his role as First Warrior, but he worried about how that power vacuum might be filled in these turbulent times.

Teba’s sharp eye caught the sight of the smoke from Mazli’s campfire. He circled above and observed the guard lounging back against the rock face behind him, shading his eyes with his wing. As Teba landed he was struck by how relaxed Mazli looked.

“Didn’t have to fly out here on my account,” smirked Mazli, making no move to rise.

“What have you seen?” asked Teba, courteously ignoring Mazli’s tone.

“A dragon, just as you said. It doesn’t seem very interested in anything; I gave it a flyby last night, but I couldn’t get too close because of the flames coming off of its body. I don’t think it even noticed me.”

“Alright...Kaneli wants you to observe it for a few more nights.”

Mazli sighed and leaned back, his crooked beak making his expression all the more galling.

“Is this really less interesting than standing at the guard’s post?” Teba asked acerbically.

“Quite the opposite,” said Mazli, his brow furrowed, “I enjoy sleeping on a hard rock! Nearly as much as I enjoyed the lizalfos _that was on top of me when I awoke this morning!_ ”

Mazli’s voice echoed through the canyon as he shouted at Teba.

“Mazli—” 

“I don’t want to do this, Teba!” he shouted as he got to his feet, “I understand why Gesane can’t do this, I do, but why not Harth? Why not _you_?”

“Have you eaten?” Teba asked him, recognizing Mazli’s earlier sarcasm had only been covering for his scare earlier that morning.

“What do you care?”

“I brought rations,” said Teba, pulling a cloth sack from his pack and handing it to Mazli.

“This bag of dried fish really makes up for our broken trust” said Mazli with false brightness.

Teba suppressed the urge to clamp his hand around his leg as Mazli set the bag with his other supplies. If Teba was to regain any sort of trust with the guards this was going to have to happen sooner or later.

“I apologize for hitting you in the beak,” said Teba jarringly, “it was...unwarranted.” 

Mazli just stared at Teba; the apology had evidently been as unexpected for the guard as it had been for Teba.

“Good. Thank you,” Mazli said at last.

“And for...whatever else I may have done to fracture our trust.”

“Teba,” said Mazli, staring at him with a tentative sort of concern, “don’t take this the wrong way, but are you...dying?”

“What? No.”

“It’s only...I’ve never heard you apologize to anyone before.”

“Truth be told, I don’t make a habit of it,” said Teba awkwardly, “I was raised in the mindset that apologies are unseemly and a sign of weakness.”

“I can understand that,” said Mazli, not making eye contact.

“I’ve been hard on you,” said Teba, “perhaps even unfair. You were fledged very young, but by the time you joined their ranks, the warriors had become a different entity from what I knew in my youth.”

“You sure you’re not dying?” Mazli pressed.

“It’s more of a...reckoning,” Teba posited.

“I have to ask,” said Mazli cautiously, “why did you clip Gesane’s wings? Nekk seemed perfectly happy to do it.”

“If ever you are in a position where you are happy to punish another, then it is cruelty. I did not relish that task.”

“Arguably, still cruelty.”

“Sometimes you must make the least cruel decision in a given situation. It is my responsibility to prevent unnecessary harm from befalling the warriors in my charge...I am ashamed to admit that I have not always lived up to that.”

Mazli nodded slowly, at a loss of words for the first time that Teba had ever witnessed.

“I don’t want you to repeat this conversation,” said Teba flatly, remembering to whom he was speaking.

Mazli opened his wings and looked around.

“Who am I going to tell out here?”

“You do raise an interesting solution to your habit of gossip,” said Teba.

“Teba...” protested Mazli.

“If ever you should feel the desire to cause friction in the ranks with your gossip again, try to recall the monotony of this tak,” said Teba as he leapt out over the canyon and beat his wings until he had climbed back into the cold Hebra winds.

oOo

Getting to the bottom of the fox incident had become an obsession for Harth. While Teba flew out early to take Mazli’s report, Harth set out to catch Huck before he made it to the shop. Harth took the the boardwalk down to Huck’s roost as most of the Rito in the village were still rising. Huck was already awake, and working away at something on the side-table in his roost when Harth positioned himself in the door frame.

“Huck.”

Huck turned and cast Harth and irritated glance before he returned to to measuring out a length of twine. 

“Your eye is twitching,” said Huck as Harth stood blocking the doorway to his roost.

“You didn’t answer us yesterday.”

“What?”

“Nekk sent us away, but you didn’t say anything,” Harth pressed, “so what should I take that to mean?”

“Why are you so invested in this?” Huck complained as he cut the twine and tied it off.

“I’ve been told I need a hobby. Did you put the fox in Gesane’s hammock?”

Huck smiled with a casual sort of pride. The expression set Harth’s lungs on fire with contempt.

“I did.”

“Hm. I thought this would be more difficult” said Harth, finding he was a little disappointed that this had been so easy.

“Now, if you could get out of my roost, I have to declare my intentions before I go to the shop,” he said, waving a nosegay of cool safflina and tawny feathers bound with twine.

“You’re not in love with Bedoli...” Harth said, offended that Huck was abusing the custom.

“C’mon, Harth, don’t be old fashioned.”

“Antilli brought me cool safflina to declare her love,” Harth said numbly, his heart pounding as he remembered the moment.

“No one is in love with anyone anymore,” said Huck, “that’s just the way things are.”

Harth could feel his eye twitching again as Huck made his way up the boardwalk. As he watched the jaunty way that Huck swung the flowers for his intended, something in Harth broke. His vision blurred and the acidic heat in his throat came out in a screech as he knocked Huck bodily to the ground. 

He landed only two blows before someone grasped him under his shoulders and yanked him back. He staggered a little on the boardwalk and turned, about to shout at who he assumed had to be Teba. He blinked as he saw that the interference had not come from Teba—who Harth then recalled was not in the village—but Amali.

“Goddess fuck, Harth! What’s wrong with you?” shouted Huck.

“Back off, Huck,” Amali warned, stepping between them.

Huck rolled his shoulder and walked back, keeping his eyes on Harth until he turned and rounded the boardwalk.

“Harth,” said Amali carefully, “do you want to come sit down?”

Harth nodded as Amali hesitantly took his wing and led him into her roost. Harth could see that the damaged floorboard remained unresolved and Amali had stacked Kass’s books beside each packed shelf. She gestured with an open wing, and Harth sat down against a patterned cushion between two stacks of books. Amali poured him a drink from the sideboard.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” Amali said as he placed the hot cup in his hands.

“What’s this?” Harth asked.

“Tea.”

“You actually drink this?” he asked.

“Kass does. It’s become a habit of mine as well.”

“I’m not sure what you see in it,” said Harth as he peered into the steaming cup.

“It’s an acquired taste.”

Amali stood in awkward silence for a moment sipping from her own cup while Harth politely failed to acquire a taste for tea.

“Why did you attack Huck?” Amali asked at length.

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it though?”

“Well, Amali,” sighed Harth, “since you’re going to tell me what you think anyway...”

“You want me to tell you what I think?” she asked, her voice raising a little as her eyebrows came together in irritation.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not I want that, I know you will,” Harth muttered into his cup.

“It astonishes me that you could have ever thought we would be happy together,” said Amali scathingly.

“Now that I think of it—me too,” said Harth, getting up.

He set his tea down on the sideboard and turned—right into Amali’s open wings.

“What is happening?” asked Harth as Amali pulled him close in a stiff embrace.

“Harth, I’m not any better at emotional stuff than you are,” she said, her wings still folded around him uncomfortably, “or apologies. But...you’re...”

“This is going really well,” he said sardonically as she trailed off, not failing to notice that she had angled them in such a way that they would not have to make eye contact. 

“We’re much better at fighting than getting along,” she said.

“I know.”

“I want us to change that...Antilli wanted us to change that.”

“She did,” Harth agreed, his throat aching a little.

“You’re my friend. And I’m sorry that we fight,” she said finally without a hint of irony.

Harth rested his beak against her shoulder and put his wings around her in return. How many times had Antilli implored him not to clash with Amali and Kass? It seemed as though everything he did to make up for his inaction came far too late.

“I’m sorry too,” he said, “more than you could ever know.”

“We should try harder to get along.”

“We should,” Harth agreed.

“You should know...I have an...ulterior motive,” she said sheepishly, “I need you on my side.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you.”

“In the interest of peace between us, I want you to see that I’m doing my very best right now not to be offended,” she said pulling away from him.

“You want me to fix the floorboard,” he said nodding.

“Oh...no, I think the floorboard is well beyond fixing,” said Amali, surprised.

“I could look at it—” 

“Harth, forget about the floorboard for a moment. There’s something we must do for our daughters.”

“What?” asked Harth, confused.

“I learned that Fyson is bound to return in eight years to marry.”

“What does that have to do with our daughters?”

Amali raised her eyebrows and it suddenly dawned on Harth.

“Well, he can’t marry your daughters...oh...no. No. He’s much too old for her...Kaneli hasn’t...Molli can’t even...she’s so small.”

Harth covered his beak as he began to see Kaneli’s plan—a plan that went on without any sort of consultation. Harth felt sick, trapped once more between the imperative for the Rito to survive and the values of freedom they pretended to espouse. Now though, it wasn’t Kaneli’s platitudes laced with disappointment as he and Antilli failed over and over to produce a viable egg; now, Harth worried for his own daughter’s very life if she were forced into the same position.

“Good,” said Amali, resting her wing on his shoulder, “I knew you’d be on side with this.”

“Are you saying this because you have some sort of plan?” he asked, his throat raw with bile.

“Perhaps we could fine tune it while we look at the floorboard.”

oOo

Teba returned from Tanagar Canyon in the afternoon. As he came to rest on Revali’s Landing, he could see that both his and Harth’s roosts were empty. He had been hoping to talk to Harth about what could be done about the role of First Warrior if he were to leave it as Saki had suggested. It was not and idea he was entertaining with any seriousness, he kept telling himself, but with the warriors on the brink of demise, perhaps it did warrant some sort of consideration.

Teba made his way down the quiet boardwalk. He saw that Tulin was engaged in some sort of flight contest with Genli and Notts at the landing near the shrine. He watched for a moment as they negotiated the relay and took off out over the lake at the count of three. Teba smiled with pride as Tulin took the lead. Notts completed the three loops with the most grace, but Teba was most impressed when Genli overtook Tulin in the last few seconds before they returned to the landing. He would have to remind Tulin to pace himself if he wanted to best Genli.

Teba did not want to interrupt their play, so he continued down the boardwalk, following the percussive sound of hammering until he reached Amali’s roost. He could barely contain his surprise to see Harth crouched on the floor, trying to level a floorboard while Amali perched precariously on the outside edge of the roost, shifting the board with a mallet.

“Did I walk into the wrong roost?” he asked.

“I guess that depends on who you were looking for,” said Harth looking up.

“It’s...unexpected to see you cooperating,” said Teba.

“Teba,” warned Harth, glancing to where Cree and Molli played a Hylian board game with wooden disks.

“Right.”

“Harth, if it’s level you should nail it down,” Amali called from outside.

“Just a little more to the left,” Harth called back to her.

“So what inspired this?” asked Teba, over the sound of Amali’s mallet.

“Common enemy,” said Harth under his breath.

Teba found that he no longer wanted to know what could possibly be going on between Harth and Amali; his mind had strayed to wildly inappropriate conclusions and he feared to be proven right.

“Amali, it’s good now,” called Harth as he picked up the hammer and nailed it into place.

“Dad, you moved all the pieces,” said Molli, looking down at the wooden board when Harth had finished.

“Sorry, Acorn.”

Amali hopped back into the roost.

“Teba,” she said “I thought I heard your voice.”

“Sorry to intrude,” he said.

“As long as you don’t mind the mess,” she shrugged.

“I have to...warn Teba about what happened this morning,” Harth told Amali.

Whatever had happened, Teba was certain he did not want to know.

“Molli is welcome to stay,” Amali assured him.

“Be good,” Harth told her as he gestured for Teba to join him on the boardwalk.

“Harth, I—” 

“Ah...I attacked Huck this morning,” said Harth over him.

“Oh,” said Teba, relieved.

“This is not the reaction I was expecting...I imagine you’re going to hear about this.”

“So Huck was the vandal then?”

“Yeah. He was really proud of it,” said Harth in disgust.

“Is that why you attacked him?” Teba hazarded.

“No...that was something else,” Harth mumbled.

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m going to take this to Kaneli...I think you should join me.”

“That’s the last thing I want to do...” complained Harth.

“Huck admitted his involvement to you, not me. It would be inappropriate for you not to be there.”

Harth sighed and followed Teba’s lead as they wound their way to the highest roost. When they arrived at Kaneli’s roost, the elder was sitting down in his chair, his braced leg outstretched.

“Oh good,” he said, “I’ve received a complaint about you, Harth.”

“Should I prepare myself for a night in the guard’s post?” Harth asked acerbically.

“Hey,” Teba quietly warned him, “don’t.”

“Nothing so serious,” said Kaneli.

“Elder, you should know that Huck has admitted to leaving a threatening message in Gesane’s roost,” Teba told him.

“Yes, I have heard that this happened.”

“Punish Harth as you will,” Teba felt Harth shift uncomfortably in protest beside him, “but don’t let Huck go unpunished.”

“It sounds as though Harth has already exacted his own version of justice upon Huck.”

The elder was clearly not amused by any of this, but it seemed increasingly clear to Teba that Kaneli simply wanted to bury both incidents.

“At the risk of further disgrace, that wasn’t why I hit him,” said Harth flatly.

Kaneli considered Harth for a moment, his flat yellow gaze betraying nothing of his thoughts.

“Harth you’re to apologize to Huck,” said the elder.

“Fine,” Harth agreed tersely.

“And what of Huck?” asked Teba, “does he get to simply apologize for a threat against Ariane’s well-being?”

“We don’t know that the vandalism to Gesane’s roost was a threat to Ariane,” said Kaneli.

“If you can’t see that, you’re being wilfully ignorant,” said Teba.

“At the very least, it was meant to harm Gesane after he had already been punished,” Harth interjected, “and it did.”

“Speaking of Gesane,” said Kaneli, ignoring Harth and addressing Teba, “he’s been spending his nights at the stable.”

“Perhaps that might have something to do with the fox, for which it sounds as though Huck is going unpunished,” Teba reiterated.

Teba tried not to glance to where Harth bristled beside him. The more he spoke with Kaneli, the more it became clear the elder was enacting his own version of what he believed was best for the future of the tribe. Teba began to wonder if this had always been the case. Had the former warrior who had taken him under his wing after his father’s death always been like this? Teba wondered. Had he just been too desensitized to notice before now?

“Teba, Gesane is one of your warriors...as is Harth for that matter,” Kaneli added, casting Harth a dark look, “get them under control. If Gesane doesn’t sleep in his own roost tonight, it will be you who is held responsible.”

“Will you have my wings clipped as well?” asked Teba acidly, “perhaps you’ll let Nekk get his shears a little bloody this time. If that’s the lesson you want the village to learn it will certainly show up well on my feathers!”

“What are you saying?”

“They agreed on the punishment _before_ the hearing. I don’t know the level of your involvement, but I know that you handpicked the arbiters with a severe outcome in mind.”

“I have tried to educate you on the hardships our tribe faces,” sighed Kaneli, “and for nearly twenty years I have devoted every waking moment to ensuring that we were safe and that we do not disappear from this world. You have served both courageously and admirably as First Warrior since you took up the role, but none of that matters—your son will live to see the end of the Rito.”

Teba said nothing as he met Kaneli’s gaze.

“Well?” prompted Kaneli, “you were so full of misplaced courage before.”

“Whatever is to come,” said Teba, his throat dry as his defiance wavered, “depriving Gesane of his love will not prevent it. I will not allow you sow discord among the warriors to serve any ends.”

“I’m disappoint that you feel that way, Teba.”

“Recently, I have found a great many things to be a source of disappointment...but I will not disappoint those in my charge again.”

Needing to get away from Kaneli before the elder had the last word, Teba quickly turned and left the roost. As he headed down the boardwalk—passing by his own roost to avoid being so near to Kaneli—his limp returned. They had barely made it to Harth’s when Teba leaned against the pillar, unable to put weight on his leg.

“Teba,” said Harth in concern, taking his shaking wing.

“I’m fine,” Teba grunted through his clenched beak.

“I know, come on,” Harth encouraged, pulling his wing over his shoulder and supporting him to his roost.

Teba sat down at the back of Harth’s roost unable to catch his breath. His wings shook as he pressed them against his leg, hoping he might overcome the phantom pain by sheer force of will. Harth crouched beside him and rested a hand on his chest.

“Your heart is racing,” said Harth quietly.

Teba nodded; he could feel it.

“I think you’re panicking.”

“I don’t...panic,” said Teba between gasps.

“Well, you did just defy your mentor.”

“Not helpful.”

“Just take a deep breath,” Harth told him, his hand moving up to rest on the back of Teba’s neck.

Teba bowed his head and tried to steady himself. Kaneli’s dire warning about Tulin seeing the end of their people had shaken him more than he realized.

“I’ve failed in my duties...I cannot protect my family or those in my charge.”

Harth rested his forehead against Teba’s and gripped his shoulder tightly. Teba fought back the urge to weep.

“That’s not true,” said Harth quietly, “without you, Medoh would still pick us out the sky. And you protected Gesane, don’t forget that.”

Teba wasn’t sure that he believed either of those things anymore. Teba squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned against Harth, wondering how he might defy Kaneli’s order or if he should even bother.

“If you need me to come with you to speak with Gesane—”

“No,” said Teba as he reluctantly withdrew from Harth and stood, “let me deliver the cruel news alone...then at least he can come to you in trust if need be.”

“You know, you don’t have to do everything alone,” said Harth as he stood.

Teba took Harth’s wing at the elbow in a warrior’s exchange and Harth returned the gesture.

“I know,” said Teba releasing Harth, “if you see Saki, please let her know that I may be away late.”

By the time Teba took off from Revali’s Landing, the sun had dipped behind the mountains, its scattered rays turning the horizon a reddish orange. Teba took his time, circling over the lake while he tried to decide what he might say. When the sun’s glow began to fade from the sky, he decided he had best take action before he lost his nerve.

Teba landed on the bridge and clutched the handrail, his leg aching as painfully as if he had walked the entire way. When Gesane spotted Teba standing on the darkened bridge, the guard picked up his pace to meet him.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, no doubt surprised to see Teba before the end of his watch.

“Gesane, have you been sleeping in the stable?” Teba asked without preamble

Gesane froze. Seeing the expression on his face, Teba hesitated, not wanting to damage the tentative trust he had managed to cultivate with the shamed warrior.

“You’re not in any trouble,” lied Teba, “I’m simply...concerned.”

“I have been,” Gesane admitted.

“Do you believe that you are in danger in the village?” Teba asked.

“No, it’s not that.”

“I can’t imagine that the stable staff are well pleased if you are spending your nights with Ariane...unmarried.”

Gesane dug his fingers into the feathers on his forehead in a gesture that looked oddly Hylian to Teba.

“It’s not like that...we share a bed, but Hylians are rather less restrictive about what goes on outside of marriage, and it’s all very chaste anyway,” Gesane said in a rush, quite flustered.

“So you wish to spend time with Ariane?” Teba asked, still hoping he might find a palatable solution to all of this.

“I’m scared for her safety!” blurted Gesane.

“Is she at risk from the Hylians?”

“She’s at risk from whomever left that message in my hammock!” said Gesane, a manic distress surfacing through his calm façade, “and there’s nothing I can do! I’m an impotent warrior! This is my fault! I should have run!”

“Gesane.”

Teba reached out to him, but Gesane flinched away and Teba withdrew. Gesane had seemed well when he had asked to return to his post, and Teba had been perfectly willing to move on from the night of the hearing if he was ready to do so. Gesane covered his beak with the back of his wing while he tried to calm his breathing and Teba realized he should have known that there was no way that the guard was ready to return to his post.

“If you need more time—”

“I don’t need _time_ ,” Gesane choked, “I’m trying to hold myself together for the sake of those around me, but children are afraid of me and adults whisper that I’m unrepentant and should marry a woman who would no longer have me!”

Gesane covered his face as he tried to regain control of himself. Teba badly wished that he had taken Harth up on his offer to accompany him. He was so strangled by his own guilt that he could only think of how he would have rewritten his actions the night he had caught Gesane and Ariane in the woods—how he should have told Gesane to flee; how he should have fought Kaneli’s order to have Gesane bound; how he should have fought harder against ruling that left Gesane flightless. In that discontent was growing an urge to make things right, but Teba wasn’t quite sure how. 

“They’ll grow back,” Gesane whispered to himself, and Teba realized that this had become his mantra.

“I know this is about more than flight feathers,” said Teba carefully, “if you need to wrap your wings around Ariane every night so that you can both feel safe...I won’t stop you, and I’ll stand in the way of anyone who tries to.”

Gesane stared at him, his expression surprised, but grateful. Whatever Teba’s punishment was to be for this small kindness, he would accept it unflinchingly.

“This is very unlike you,” said Gesane.

“I have never had to grapple with my honour like this,” Teba admitted, “I thought I was making a difficult choice when I engaged Medoh with Harth, and each choice I’ve made since then, should have been easy. It was quite the opposite...we were foolish and Harth nearly lost his life for my error... and these choices that I’ve made with you were in the confines of duty to the tribe and honour and justice...how can what I’ve done to you be honourable or just?”

“I harbour no ill will toward you,” said Gesane, “I allowed myself to be taken because I subscribe to the same ideals.”

“Then perhaps that is what must change,” said Teba.


	11. Shifting Sands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kass makes the dangerous trek to Gerudo Town to complete his ballad.

Kass had been dreading his flight into Gerudo Desert since he had left the deadly beauty of Eldin’s volcanic mountains. His last venture across these sands had seen him banned from the territory, and he prayed that the Gerudo would not recognize him after all these years.

The air cooled to near-freezing as night fell and Kass left the safety of Gerudo Canyon Stable and took flight to Kara Kara Bazaar. As he followed the road below, his eyes caught the crackling glow of electric chuchus lighting up the dens they shared with desert-dwelling lizalfos. It always struck Kass as strange to see the different orders of monsters working in cooperation; he had never noticed these tendencies before he had taken up Olin’s pilgrimage and idly wondered if the monsters’ increasing aggression had something to do with the tendrils of malice that swirled around the castle.

Kass could see the lights from torches reflecting in the oasis pool below, and began to circle as he scouted a place to land. He set down just outside of the bazaar, his feet sinking into the sand, its baked-in heat from the day still dissipating. He trudged awkwardly through the sand, following the vendors’ lights. As he reached the edge of the clear pool he stopped, surprised to see a Rito snoozing on the warm rocks.

“Guy,” he said as he approached him and sat down.

Guy lifted his head, his eyes wide in alarm.

“Are you here to fetch me back?” he asked.

“No...surely you know they would never send me to perform such a task.”

“Yes, I suppose they wouldn’t.”

“Everyone thinks you died,” Kass told him.

“Only nearly,” said Guy, gazing out to where the sandstorms swirled.

“What happened?” asked Kass.

“I ventured a little to close to the town,” he said, “the guards must have thought I was trying to gain entrance, because I was brought down with an arrow through my wing...I had no idea the Gerudo were such keen archers.”

“When was this? Are you alright?” Kass asked.

“I’m fine; it was a few moons ago. I was rescued by a Goron. He brought me back here and helped remove the arrow...healed up nicely,” he said staring at his outstretched wing.

“Did you ever get word to Frita?” asked Kass.

Guys sighed dejectedly.

“If she got my message, she didn’t respond.”

“Far be it from me to tell anyone how to live their lives...but your Keth is getting quite tall, he’ll soon be able to handle a bow.”

Guy closed his eyes, his expression tight

“It’s a painful tactic you use,” said Guy, “to bring up my son.”

“When you left you swore to return to him.”

“I cannot leave here without knowing that my sister is well.”

Kass wondered if perhaps something else was going on as Guy avoided his gaze. Whatever it was, Kass had more urgent matters to attend to. Kass pulled Olin’s journal from his pack to review a passage that his teacher had written about visiting Gerudo Town in his youth:

_“When first I was appointed Court Poet at the tender age of fourteen, I travelled with Princess Zelda and her personal guard to Gerudo Town. I was saddened that I would be left outside, unable to experience the wonders of this desert jewel. Seeing my disappointment, the princess instructed me to discard my courtly garb and don the flowing silks of the Gerudo. I did so without hesitation, the light fabric cool on my skin even in the harshness of the desert heat. Having not yet reached adolescence, my face was yet full of the childishness which obscures gender. The princess smiled wickedly; so excited was she to join in this conspiracy, that she herself lined my eyes in black and painted my lips in blue. When I had let down my hair—which fell past my shoulders, unbound—and set a silver circlet atop my head, I looked more the part than Impa in her armour.”_

Kass smiled to himself at the thought of Olin’s stolen moment of intrigue with the princess. It occurred to him that he would have to find a similar means of subterfuge if he wished to enter the town to finish the balled Olin had begun to honour Lady Urbosa.

Kass turned to ask Guy if he knew of a clothier in the area, but was met with a snore. Guy’s beak rested on his chest as he slept, and Kass marvelled at his ability to do so with such ease. A glint of light above caught Kass’s eye. He lifted his head and gazed up to the top of the only stone building in the bazaar where a figure stood, their golden armbands catching the light of the moon as the wind blew at their silks. Curious, Kass pushed off and beat his wings in the cold air until he landed on the flat stone above the building.

“I wondered if you’d see me,” said the stranger, “call me Vilia.”

Kass took in the Vilia’s appearance.

“You seem like someone who might know how to get into Gerudo Town,” said Kass shrewdly.

Vilia’s eyes crinkled in a smile above the veil.

“I might know a thing or two. Tell me, what do you think of my outfit?”

“Fuchsia is your colour,” said Kass agreeably, “it brings out your eyes.”

“Thank you! You’re polite to say so.”

“Perhaps you might know where I can acquire something in this fashion?” Kass pressed.

When Kass had finished haggling with Vilia, he returned to where Guy slept on his warm rock. The jingle of the bangles stacked around Kass’s ankle woke the sleeping Rito as Kass landed beside him. Guy appeared to be momentarily taken aback by Kass’s disguise. Kass shifted a little in his pale rose sirwal and top as he dropped his cuirass and sash beside Guy.

Guy opened his beak a couple of times as if he was going to say something but was not quite sure how to phrase it.

“You’re making me very feel self-conscious right now,” Kass told him.

“I like it,” said Guy at last.

“I was not expecting that...”

“I mean it’s been a while for me, if you get my drift...”

“Oh how flattering that I’m now the source of your sordid fantasies,” Kass deadpanned.

“Kass, it looks good,” said Guy seriously.

“Good or convincing?” Kass asked him, shifting the stiff top against his chest, “do you think I’ll make it past the guards?” 

“Do they know your face?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just keep your veil down, try not to talk too much. I don’t think the Gerudo have a very easy time determining Rito gender.”

“And yet they shot you down” Kass commented dryly.

Guy gestured to his clothes.

“I look like a warrior and wear the braids of a warrior. They seemed to have gained a sharp eye for those particular distinctions, thanks to Kyvoro.”

The name landed upon Kass with a pang of an old ache, like a forgotten scar hidden beneath layers of clothing and suddenly rediscovered. Kass sighed, setting the past aside; Kyvoro had been lost to them for many years.

“What course do you recommend to gain entrance?” Kass asked.

“Approach on foot,” Guy advised, “whatever happened those years ago has made the Gerudo wary of Rito.”

“Might I leave with you some items which may betray me?” asked Kass.

“Only if...” Guy sighed, “find out what happened to my sister. I cannot return to our mother without word of her.”

“Of course,” Kass promised.

Kass took flight from the wooden watch structure at the edge of the bazaar, the armbands placed high on his wings chafing uncomfortably. He landed on the road, well ahead of the town which glimmered on the horizon. 

A Hylian man with a lantern running toward Kara Kara Bazaar glanced quickly up and down Kass’s body as he hurried past. Kass was filled with the compulsion to cover himself with his wings and was left with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He grit his beak as he made his way up the path; he did not have the time to deal with such boorishness.

By the time he reached the town gate, Kass could feel the beginnings of the unrelenting heat of the sun on his back. The endless horizon glowed first with the dun haze of early sunlight reflecting off of distant sandstorms before the sky above began to clear into soft blue. As Kass approached the smooth-carved gate, the guards nodded to him and he hurried beneath the banners of green, yellow and red which were hung in the arch.

Once inside the walls, he stopped on the sandy cobbles to gaze up in awe at the morning light that glinted off the waterfalls. Around him, vendors were opening their stalls for the day; two Gorons chatted to one another as they made their way to the gate with their heavy packs; children with long, red hair ran about, playing games of war. He wondered how he was to find Frita in all of this glorious chaos.

Kass took a deep breath, wondering how long he could manage go undetected in such a flimsy disguise. He could smell meat as it cooked on a spit, and realized he might need to eat if he wished to make it through the draining heat of the day. He avoided the heavy meat and instead opted for fruit from a vendor, silently pointing at what he wanted.

“Another Rito,” she remarked, taking his rupees, “have you come to live out your days here as well?”

She seemed to ignore Kass as he shook his head in the negative.

“It must be a terrible, cold place, your Rito Village, if so many wish to spend their lives among the Gerudo.”

Kass tried to smile politely beneath his veil, but he was growing anxious with this conversation and backed away from the vendor with a tiny wave. He found a quiet place in an alley to eat, nervous every second that he might be spotted.

Calmer having broken his fast, Kass returned to the market and made his way across the palm-lined walkway to the great staircase and chieftain’s hall that overlooked the town. He cautiously approached the open archway but was stopped when the guards crossed their spears in front of him.

“State your business, Rito,” said one.

Kass cleared his throat, at a loss for what to say.

“Do you come seeking asylum?” asked the other guard.

Kass shook his head, chilled that it might be Gerudo policy to ask such a thing. If Kaneli ever heard of this, Kass was sure he would send an envoy to try and make it stop.

“Research, for a history,” Kass whispered at last, hoping his voice would not give him away “I wish to meet with your chieftain.”

The guards exchanged glances over their veils and uncrossed their spears. Kass took that to mean that he was allowed entrance, and didn’t hesitate to enter the gilded hall. He was made to wait a short while until the chieftain made her way into the hall, accompanied by a severe-looking guard. He was so nervous that his deception might be discovered, he found his mind turning endlessly as he tried to recall the name of their current leader. The chieftain—Lady Riju, Kass remembered at last—stood before her throne and Kass was struck by her youth as he was ushered up the plush carpet. When he reached the throne, he knelt in a bow.

“Rise, Rito,” said the youthful voice with clear amusement.

As Kass straightened, he could could see by the gleam in Riju’s eyes that she had sized him up immediately. He tried not to clench his fists in fear as she reclined in her throne.

“Buliara,” she addressed her bodyguard, “it seems the guard is unaware of how many men seem to pass through the gates in clever disguise.”

Kass cast a panicked glance at the open walls at the back of the throne room, wondering if he could make it to safety on wing in this heat.

“Shall I remove this _voe_ from the grounds?” Buliara asked, clearly eager to do so.

“He made it this far, let me see what I can discern from our short interaction,” smiled Riju, pleased with her game.

Riju pressed her hands together as she rested her fingertips gently against her chin.

“It is not the Rito custom to prostrate yourself in submission to leaders or anyone else; your style of bow is reminiscent of the knightly bows of Hylians which have become fashionable in recent times—you have spent significant time among Hylians...how am I doing?”

Kass nodded mutely, wondering what else the clever chieftain might guess from his actions.

“You are tropical in appearance, but I am assured that Rito of this region have not been seen for two generations. And you carry a musical instrument, suggesting that you have earned your living as a minstrel. Am I close?”

Kass nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced at Buliara’s two-handed sword, resting confidently in her grip and silently prayed to the Goddess that he would not die at the end of it.

“You are known to me, Kass,” said Riju, her eyes dancing with delight.

Kass inhaled a sharp breath, fearing what might follow this.

“Do you know what gave you away?” she asked.

Kass shook his head. Riju smiled brightly and gestured behind them to a staircase.

“My map-maker.”

Kass turned to see the familiar petite form of said map-maker, Erie accompanied by her partner Silda. Unlike the last time he had seen them, they were both dressed in Hylian travelling garb and looked as though they had come from the road. In the decade since Kass had seen them last, Silda’s hair had turned grey and Erie’s was quickly following. Kass covered his beak through his veil with both wings, unable to halt the sudden emotions that overwhelmed him.

“I apologize for the game,” said Riju, “but it’s my understanding that you know you are not to venture into the region...it is fortunate that you have trusted friends in this court.”

No longer fearing that he was about to die by Buliara’s blade, Kass met Erie and Silda at the bottom of the staircase and wrapped his wings around them, barely noticing the tears that slid onto his veil as he pressed his cheek to the top of Silda’s head.

“Surely, the Goddess must be guiding us if we are to all meet once again, here of all places,” said Erie as Kass pulled back to look at them both.

“I thank you for intervening on my behalf,” Kass whispered.

Silda’s good eye crinkled in a smile as she reached up to straighten Kass’s veil.

“You look pretty,” she told him, her voice a little scratchy with emotion.

“Thanks,” laughed Kass, wiping at his eyes.

“Now,” called Riju, “I understand that you have a matter of research to address?”

oOo

Silda and Erie had set out right away, and Kass spent most of his day in discussion with Lady Riju and Buliara about Lady Urbosa. Riju seemed pleased not only to offer her insights, but had Kass play her what had had written so far and received his composition with delight. Buliara was not keen on Kass wandering through the market, but Riju gave him leave to do so if he promised to leave the town by nightfall.

It was already nearing sunset when Kass stepped from the chieftain’s hall. He still had yet to find Frita, but he did not have much time. As he wandered into the market, he was astonished by his good fortune to find her in front of a meat vendor, trying to decide on what to eat. The vendor regarded her with an irritated look that suggested this might be a frequent occurrence. As Kass approached Frita, she turned, he eyes wide with immediate recognition.

“Kass!” she gasped, her eyes darting as she looked for an escape route. 

“I’m only here to talk,” he promised quietly.

“Who sent you?”

“I’m here for my own reasons...might we speak in private?”

“Alright,” Frita agreed.

She led him from the crowded market to the alley where they could speak alone.

“If you’re here to retrieve me—”

“No, I’m not I promise, but I don’t have much time. Your brother has been sitting out in the desert for months, not sure whether you are alive and well,” Kass told her.

“That’s unfortunate for him,” she said, though her voice wavered.

“You don’t have to come home, he’s said he won’t make you, but at least let him know why. If you wish to write to him, I’ll take the letter myself.”

“I didn’t want to marry Huck,” she said flatly, “and here they can’t compel me.”

“And if you’re worried that you would have to if you leave these walls, then I would never make you,” Kass vowed, “but please, I must leave at sunset. What am I to tell Guy?”

“Tell him to go home! I’m fine here!”

“Frita...”

“I will come home when there is no longer any chance that I will have to marry Huck.”

“Is that what you want me to say?” Kass asked.

Frita sighed and scrunched her face in exasperation.

“Tell him...I’m alright...and I’m glad that he cares, but...I’m not coming back.”

“Alright,” agreed Kass, turning to leave.

“Kass.”

Frita grabbed Kass’s wing and pulled him into her wings. Kass put his wings around her, wondering if she missed the touch of other Rito as he sometimes did.

“Tell him I’m sorry,” she whispered into the fabric of his top.

“I will...take care of yourself, Frita.”

“You too, Kass.”

oOo

Kass was exhausted when he returned to Kara Kara Bazaar and Guy. Guy flexed his wings near the rock, and Kass wondered if he had been pacing.

“I was nearly about to go out after you!” Guy blurted.

“Thoughtful of you,” said Kass, removing his veil and casting it aside with his pack, “but entirely unnecessary.”

“Is she alright?”

Kass released the clasps on the metal armbands as he squirmed out of the Gerudo top and folded it atop his pack.

“She seems well...but she’s not coming back.”

Guy nodded and sat down on the rocks, his face marred with distress as Kass removed the bangles on his legs.

“What are you going to do?” Kass asked.

“I don’t know...”

Guy wrapped his wings around the back of his head, shielding his face.

“Guy, go home,” Kass sighed, “your son wishes to train with you.”

Kass dropped his sirwal on his pack and pulled on his sash and cuirass. He heard Guy huff into his wings.

“Unless you, too, ache for freedom?” Kass pressed.

Guy uncovered his face and inhaled deeply

“I know I have responsibilities I must return to...leaving Keth behind was not was not easy.”

“In fairness, I think I should warn you,” said Kass, “I came across Fyson not long ago. It seems things in the village have been somewhat...tense.”

“How so?”

“Aside from Vah Medoh having to be tamed...apparently wing-clipping has been resurrected as a form of punishment.”

Guy turned and cast his horrified gaze upon Kass as Kass continued to dress himself, tightening the leather straps on his sides.

“Who?” asked Guy.

“I’ve been told it was performed on Gesane.”

Guy let out a voiced huff of disgust.

“They found out about Ariane then,” Guy sighed.

“You knew as well?”

“Gesane has been my friend since we were children...I’m sorry to hear this news. Though I didn’t think it would go on so long—a Hylian and a Rito.”

“That seems very judgmental for someone whose fantasies seem to include me dressed as a Gerudo,” said Kass wryly.

“I told you, I’ve been out here a while,” Guy protested. 

Kass straightened his clothes, glad he was no longer subject to the stares of passers-by. He sat down on the rock beside Guy as he carefully packed away his silks.

“What do you plan to do?” Kass asked him.

“I’ll set out tomorrow,” Guy decided, “I can’t hide from my responsibilities any longer. Will you be joining me?”

“Soon,” said Kass, “but for now, I have responsibilities outside of the village.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I approached Guy in game I always sort of thought he was lying to me, so I have treated his reasons for being out in the desert as different to what he tells you in-game. 
> 
> I thought about whether or not to include Erie and Silda in this, and it felt like there was no way Kass was getting away with being in Gerudo Town after ‘Age of Intolerance’ chapter 21 without someone intervening on his behalf. I was trying to write this in such a way that it could be read as a standalone but I realize I’ve invested too much in backstory and character growth for that to happen at this point. I hope you liked it anyway :)


	12. Blood Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kass returns home to learn about Revali; Gesane comes to a difficult decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a moment of past suicidal thoughts.

The sun was high in the sky as Kass flew north to the great pillar and that now tranquil avian beast that perched atop it. He had set out from Tabantha Bridge Stable that morning, having taken the long way around to avoid the bitter desert freeze of the Gerudo Highlands. Kass’s talons clattered on the sun-warmed landing as he set down in Rito Village. He breathed in the cool mountain air, the scents of pine and lake water—the smell of home.

Kass set out down the boardwalk to his roost, offering only a nod to any Rito who greeted him along the way; he had some decidedly impure thoughts about what he wanted to do with Amali once he had wrapped her in his wings, and he hardly had time to waste before he had to set out once more. His hopes on this front were dashed when he arrived at his family’s roost.

“Kass,” breathed Amali, throwing her wings around him and nudging her beak against his.

“Why is Harth here?” Kass asked her quietly as his own wings limply around her.

Kass stared over Amali’s shoulder at Harth, who stood uncomfortably at the back of the roost. After Fyson’s fragmented account of what had transpired with Gesane, Kass wanted even less to do with Harth than usual.

“It’s not what you think,” Harth protested.

“You don’t know what I think,” said Kass, stepping back from Amali, “but it’s good that you acknowledge how this appears.”

“Kass, we’ve patched things up,” Amali told him, “we’ve been, trying to come up with something.”

“Come up with what?”

“Look, I just helped Amali fix a few floorboards while you were gone,” said Harth suppliantly.

“Harth, none of what you are saying right now is improving my opinion,” Kass told him bluntly.

“You know what, Kass...” Harth began, his feathers slightly raised in agitation.

“Harth, stop,” snapped Amali, “ _both_ of you, stop!”

“No, I really have to say this, Amali,” said Harth crossing to room to stand face-to-face with Kass, “things have been very ugly here, Kass.”

“Yes, I heard you might have had a part in that.”

“Goddess, you don’t know how long I have waited to say this to you,” Harth hissed with relish, though his expression was contradictorily embittered, “but _you don’t know what you’re talking about._ You were needed here when you were off visiting shrines, or whatever the hell it was you were doing.”

“I don’t need you to weigh on my already overburdened conscience,” Kass snapped “and it was not I who participated in a wing-clipping.”

Harth’s expression grew darker than Kass had ever seen it.

“Your problem lies with Kaneli and not me,” he said under his breath.

“Enough,” said Amali, “we can talk about all of this later.”

“I have things to see to anyway,” said Harth, stalking from the roost.

Kass—his mood rather spoiled—glanced around at the roost and he removed his pack, his eyes coming to rest on the stacks of books which rested in every available corner.

“I had no idea that you had inherited an entire library from Olin,” Amali said, following his gaze.

“I would have thought at least some would be left to Impa,” Kass said.

He lifted a notebook, bound in cowhide and wrapped with a leather cord. It looked older than the one he carried, which seemed merely to hint at the depths of Olin’s experience. When Kass opened the fragile yellowed pages, he saw the first entry to be dated only a year after the Calamity.

“I must set out again in the morning,” said Kass, replacing the book.

“Again?” sighed Amali in disappointment.

“I can’t imagine it will be long before I am home for good.”

“Harth wasn’t exaggerating,” Amali told him, “there are some troubling things going on here.”

“I came across Fyson, he told me of Gesane’s hearing,” said Kass.

“Is Fyson well?”

“Very.”

“The hearing was terrible,” said Amali, “I didn’t let the girls see his punishment, but Cree’s been very worked up about it.”

Kass felt an eddy of guilt that he could not be here to ease his children’s fears. He set his beak and reminded himself he was nearly through, just as he did each time he set out.

“I need to speak to Kaneli...for some research,” Kass told her abruptly, having wasted enough time on Harth already, “but I will spend my evening here with you and the children.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Amali asked as Kass turned to set out.

“The sooner I do this, the sooner it is done. I can’t stray from my path—it’s already been set out before me.”

“And you wondered why you found Harth in here, fixing your roost, carrying your children to safety, and keeping your wife company!”

Kass knew Amali was taunting him in hopes of getting a reaction. Kass was not about to rise to such a tactic.

“Amali, if I don’t do this—”

“What?”

“Link is preparing for battle, one which shall determine the future of Hyrule. Even if I believed you were about to replace me with Harth, I still wouldn’t be able to stray from my course. If you think that I have any choice in this—”

“Of course you have a choice! Kass, this is madness!”

“I have spent every moment in flight thinking about this, trying to decide if any choice is my own. I chose the route of my pilgrimage and encountered Link, no matter how remote the site. I sought to finish Olin’s ballads as a salve to my own pain, and there, too, was the Goddess’s hand.”

“Perhaps then, if you decide to stay here, he will find you! He is a not infrequent visitor.”

“But my heart tells me I can’t,” Kass said, closing his eyes, “and I don’t want us to spend our night in conflict.”

“Fine,” said Amali jaggedly, “but when you next return home we will be having an unbelievable row.”

“I look forward to it,” said Kass darkly; he knew this dance.

“People will talk about it for years,” she promised, pulling him toward her roughly.

“On account of your fury?” he asked, tugging at the sash around her waist.

“Neighbours will interfere on your behalf,” she promised as she yanked at the buckles on his cuirass.

“Wonderful,” he said, hoisting her into the hammock.

When they lay panting in the aftermath of their encounter, Amali pulled herself onto Kass’s breast and brushed her beak against his.

“You said you had research to do,” she said to him.

“I still do,” he said, wrapping a wing around her to draw her close.

“At least the Goddess has granted you this,” said Amali.

“I thank her every time I see you,” Kass said, burying his beak in her feathers.

“Go,” she said, shifting to his side, “get it over with before the girls return home.”

Kass lit from the hammock and pulled on his discarded clothes. He tilted his face up to touch beaks with Amali where she remained before he left the roost and wound his way up to the elder’s roost to make his inquiries. He found Kaneli quite accommodating, thrilled to tell Kass everything he had ever read or heard about the Rito Champion.

“You ought to visit Teba,” Kaneli told him, “as a child, he counted Revali among his heroes.”

“Thank you for the suggestion,” said Kass as he tried to hide his surprise that Teba might hold anyone in admiration.

Following this lead, and setting aside any reservations he might have about Teba’s involvement in Gesane’s punishment, Kass took to boardwalk to the next roost. Teba sat alone, scraping a whetstone over his feathered edge. His dark eyebrows raised as he saw Kass enter his roost.

“I’m surprised to see you here at this hour,” said Kass.

“I’m surprised to see you at all,” came Teba’s dark reply.

“I’m not staying. I’m working on a song that my teacher left unfinished, honouring the Champions who perished in the Calamity.”

“Alright,” said Teba, his eyebrows still low over his eyes in suspicion.

“The elder told me that Master Revali was someone you admired as a child.”

“A great many warriors do,” said Teba, avoiding Kass’s gaze to return to his task.

“I’ve heard a rumour,” said Kass carefully, “that you bear some distant relation to him.”

“I don’t talk about that,” Teba said, his voice tense with annoyance.

“Is it true?” Kass pressed.

“It’s probably as true for any Rito in this village as it is for me.”

“I see.”

“The truth is I don’t know,” Teba snapped, sharpening his blade more furiously as he spoke, “and Revali did not live long enough to take a mate, so there is no bloodline which can be traced directly to him. The accounts I’ve read say that he was born into misfortune and overcame his circumstances through skill and with the Goddess’s blessing... _ah_.”

Teba dropped the whetstone, blood blossoming through the white feathers where the blade had slipped against Teba’s hand.

“Is something else troubling you?” Kass asked carefully.

“A great many things,” said Teba, setting aside the blade and searching for something to staunch the bleeding, “none of which are helped by your presence.”

“Do you wish to share your burden?”

Teba grumbled nearly inaudibly, but clearly had no desire to share his thoughts with Kass.

“After all these years, what do you think you have to fear from me?” Kass asked incredulously.

Teba glanced at Kass as he pressed a square of linen to his cut. Kass shifted uncomfortably under Teba’s considered gaze.

“What?” Kass finally asked.

“How many summers have you seen?”

“Teba...”

“I know, your tribe didn’t track such things. Guess.”

“At least forty...likely more,” Kass hazarded.

“Hm,” Teba intoned.

“Now do I get to tell you how you’re looking a little old these days as well?” Kass asked, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

“I have to think,” said Teba, staring at Kass expectantly.

“Fine, think,” Kass said crossly as he came to the understanding that Teba expected him to leave, “this was very illuminating.”

When Kass returned home to share an evening meal with his family his daughters were so delighted to see him that they climbed all over him as he sat down to eat. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed as Kotts hung from his shoulders and Cree and Notts sat in his lap. That night he tucked them in and sang them to sleep before he took one of Olin’s journals to read on the tiny landing on the same level as their roost.

“I think I should warn you,” said Amali, sitting down beside him, “I have read some of these.”

“Oh?” asked Kass.

“According to his journals...Olin...had a frankly astonishing number of lovers,” she told him, raising her eyebrows.

Kass laughed silently in disbelief.

“Even after he found you.”

“What?” Kass said in alarm, “I don’t recall anyone.”

“According to his journals, they were only ever people he met on his travels.”

“Ah...” said Kass.

He felt as though a part of his childhood had grown tainted with this new knowledge. Perhaps that was why Olin had kept it from him, though Kass suspected it had much more to do with the Sheikah understanding of decorum.

“And ah...were you aware that he preferred men?” Amali asked carefully.

“I suspected,” Kass acknowledged, “it’s less of a taboo among peoples of Hyrule who aren’t facing extinction...though the Sheikah tend to be pretty reserved in all expressions of affection.”

“This is what confuses me,” said Amali, “because his poems are all about the Princess of Hyrule, clear jealousy about the attraction between her and her knight.”

“Those were his public poems. Everything I’ve read that he never meant to circulate looks very different.”

“This one seems to be his first after the Calamity,” said Amali, resting her wing over the book in Kass’s hands, “it’s...”

Amali looked as though she were near tears.

“What?” Kass asked her.

“It’s hard to read,” she admitted, “every page is just pain, and loss, and longing; he lost nearly every person he had ever known...and he mentions the princess’s fallen knight over and over.”

“You don’t think it was Link that he was in love with?” Kass asked, at Amali’s meaningful look.

“He certainly admired him.”

“It’s strange to think about Olin in his youth,” said Kass, carefully flipping through the pages, “Link has no memory of him...it seems kinder to keep this from him.”

A piece of heavy paper fell from the book and fluttered to the landing beside the inn below. Kass handed Amali the journal and spread his wings as he jumped down to capture it before the wind took it. As he turned it over he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

On the page was a painting, though he could see no brushstrokes, and assessed it as the most true to life he had ever encountered. The lines were clear and crisp and he slowly came to recognize the figures from his travels. The tiny Zora was adorned in the same lattice-work jewellery as Mipha’s statue in Zora’s Domain; what Kass’s eyes had initially mistaken for a boulder bore a strong resemblance to the likeness carved into the mountains in Goron City; Link was unmistakable.

“Where could you have found this?” Kass whispered, wishing that Olin’s voice might return to tell him.

“What is it?” Amali asked as she landed beside him.

“I think it’s an image of the Champions,” said Kass.

“That’s Link,” said Amali in surprise, “so he has been telling the truth...”

“I think this should go to him,” decided Kass, “he remembers so little, perhaps this can bring him some comfort.”

oOo

Gesane sat bolt upright as he awoke in the uncomfortable stable bed that he had been sharing with Ariane. His heart raced and his talons were tangled in the blankets as he shook off the terrible sensation of plummeting from a great height. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lantern light through the open canopy, he could see the stable master watching him from the counter. Gesane realized they were the only two left in the stable at this early hour.

“Gesane,” Galli said gravely, his ginger moustache not quite hiding the concern that drew his mouth into a tight line.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Gesane panted.

“It’s alright, there’s no one else here to wake this morning,” sighed the stable manager as he left the desk for the communal fire.

Gesane realized he must have screeched in his troubled sleep when Ariane appeared in the stable door. The lanterns cast her in a warm glow while the early morning light turned the world behind her slightly grey. She leaned her pitchfork at the door and came to his side. He swallowed hard, trying to draw just one steady breath as she dropped her work gloves on the floor and took his face in her hands.

“I’m alright,” he told her.

“I know,” she said softly as she straightened his braids and smoothed his feathers.

“I’ve never dreamt of falling before...this,” he said, holding up his wing and staring at the loathsome straight edges of what remained of his flight feathers.

“Dreaming of falling scares Hylians too,” she assured him.

“Yes, but I never hear any of you screeching,” he said, trying to hide the shame that crept into his tone as he disentangled himself from the coarse wool blanket. 

“It doesn’t matter, you didn’t wake anyone.”

“I did a few nights ago.”

“Lester does all the time,” Ariane shrugged, “he says some pretty dirty stuff in his sleep...everyone thinks he’s sweet, but that old man has a filthy mind.”

“I have heard Lester,” Gesane agreed darkly, thinking of how Lester had awoken only the night before as Gesane crept to bed where Ariane had already fallen asleep.

“Oh, what did he say to you? Sometimes he tells me what he would do with me if he were twenty years younger.”

“Ugh,” Gesane shuddered, “I got...‘how do birds fuck if you don’t have cocks?’”

“Well that’s just offensive...and betrays a fundamental lack of creative thinking.”

Gesane tilted his beak up to where Ariane stood beside him and she kissed it and pressed her forehead to his. Gesane wrapped his wings around her waist as she rested her hands on his shoulders. It felt like slander and abuse was always piling up around them now that their relationship was out in the open. Certainly, there were those among both the Hylians and the Rito who were supportive, but the sight of them together was never precisely met with acceptance.

Galli cleared his throat and Ariane dropped one more kiss on Gesane’s beak before she collected her gloves and returned to her chores.

“Sorry, back to work,” she said as she left.

Gesane sat on the edge of the bed and adjusted his leg-wraps as Galli approached.

“Here,” he said as he passed Gesane a heavy glazed cup.

“Rito don’t usually drink tea.”

“Well, when in Gerudo Town...”

“When in Gerudo Town what?” asked Gesane, confused.

“You don’t know the saying? When in Gerudo Town, do as the Gerudo do.”

“I’ve never heard it.”

“It means you behave as the people you are among behave.”

“Why?” asked Gesane.

“You know what, never mind,” sighed Galli, turning back to the desk in exasperation, “I’m trying to help because you’re having a hard time.”

“Thank you,” Gesane amended, “for the tea.”

He set the cup on the table while he pulled on his cuirass and made the bed. He was still not entirely sure if he was doing it correctly, but it was policy for stable staff to make their beds when not occupied and he hated to leave it for Ariane. 

As Gesane headed outside, he sipped his tea in the pale morning light and sat down on the ground near the cooking pot so that he would not distract Ariane from her chores. Ponthos leaned back where he sat on a stout log near the fire, eating a plate of meat and eggs. He must have arrived sometime after Gesane had left his watch the night before, because he didn’t recall seeing him as he returned to the stable.

“So you just live here now or what?” Ponthos asked.

“I’m staying for a bit.”

Gesane held the ceramic cup between his wings and watched as the steam rose off it in the cool morning air.

“What d’you think you can offer her?” the burly traveller asked, glancing back at Ariane.

“This conversation already reeks of jealousy,” Gesane said with feigned disinterest. 

“Say it ain’t jealousy,” said Ponthos, “you two gonna bind your hands and swear your vows to the Goddess? Then what, you carry her over the threshold of your roost? Everyone knows what your people did to you, so I doubt it.”

Gesane shifted uncomfortably at Ponthos’s casual reference to his punishment.

“So what?” Ponthos continued, “you stay here and take the abuse from the Hylians and the Rito. And who’s gonna take care of you in your old age? Bet you didn’t think of that.”

Gesane stood to return the cup to the inn and stared across the stable yard. Ariane’s bound hair blew against her face in the gentle breeze, the rising sun glinting copper and gold off of the strands. She smiled at him when she caught him staring. Gesane felt a sudden, terrible ache in his chest.

“Go fuck yourself, Ponthos,” he said softly and without enthusiasm.

Gesane returned to the stable where he washed the cup in a basin of greying soapy water and set it on a cloth to dry. He collected his bow from beneath Ariane’s bed and slung it on his back as he headed to the bridge. 

As he crossed the wooden structure, he paused and glanced over the railing. There had been a few heart-stopping moments on his first patrols after his wing-clipping where he had clutched the railing with shaking hands and wondered if he had it in him to step over the edge.

“Gesane,” called Skovo.

Gesane released the railing, his heart pounding a little as the guard approached.

“You alright?” Skovo asked.

Gesane nodded.

“Harth asked me to tell you to go see him.”

“Harth? Do you know what it’s about?”

“No,” said Skovo, “didn’t think it was any of my business.”

“Alright,” sighed Gesane as he carried on up to the next stack.

He had never thought the walk very long before—though, he had always had the option of flying then. Now, each step seemed a reminder of his humiliation. He had already shed a couple of the clipped feathers and could feel the blood feathers which had pushed through to replace them. They seemed to catch on everything in the Hylian world: blankets, clothes and Ariane. He didn’t expect that his flight feathers would be fully replaced before the next spring.

Gesane walked quickly past the shops, staring straight ahead in fear that Nekk might yet find a way to take his own enduring anger out upon him. He glanced toward Laissa and Bedoli’s roost, worried he might have a run-in with Bedoli. Gratefully, the roost was occupied only by Laissa, reading through an old Chronicle. Gesane continued past her doorway and into Harth’s roost.

Harth sat back against the half-wall, adjusting the grip on a swallow bow. He glanced up and made a gesture for quiet, pointing to where Molli still slept in her little hammock. 

“I didn’t think you’d be so early,” Harth said quietly as Gesane approached.

“Skovo sent me.”

Harth handed him a cushion and motioned that he should join him. Gesane reluctantly sat down near enough that neither of them would have to raise their voices.

“You’re still sleeping in the stable.”

“Teba said it was alright,” Gesane said, a little defensively.

“You should know...he’s been confined to his roost since you didn’t come back that night.”

“He took my report last night,” Gesane disputed.

“He’s allowed to see to his duties...he really didn’t say anything then?” Harth pressed.

“Can you please be direct?” Gesane asked, digging his hand beneath the feathers on his forehead.

“Teba doesn’t want me to intervene, but I think that you would disagree with what he’s doing on your behalf.”

“Harth.”

“Kaneli told him that he was to put a stop to you sleeping at the stable. He’s confined to his roost until he does.”

Gesane exhaled and held his head; he didn’t want Teba fighting his battles for him, no matter how well-intentioned.

“Gesane, if you’re still afraid to return to your own roost—”

“I’m not...this is...” he sighed in exasperation.

Harth sat quietly while Gesane covered his face. It felt like the attacks seemed to come from all sides at all times. Even Harth—who had been unprecedentedly understanding throughout it all—did not seem to approve of any of this beyond getting one over on Kaneli. Gesane felt brittle as he fought to cling to the shreds of honour he thought he still had. 

He stood abruptly.

“Where are you going?” Harth asked.

“I’m giving in.”

Gesane strode purposefully from Harth’s roost—ignoring Bedoli and Huck on Revali’s Landing—and right into Teba’s roost. Tulin still slept in his hammock and Saki had already left. Teba sat at the back of the roost, consulting a log of past reports. He raised his dark eyebrows expectantly as Gesane stood before him.

“I don’t need you to protect me!” Gesane hissed at him.

“This is about much more than just you,” whispered Teba.

“Harth said you’re confined here because of me! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Teba exhaled with a low rumble, his feathers a little fluffed in aggravation. Gesane had been glad that Teba felt guilt for his actions at first, but now he was concerned that in his attempts to make amends, Teba might lose the respect of those in the village. It was a respect that Teba sorely needed to maintain in order to best serve his warriors.

“I’m going to fix this,” Gesane told Teba.

“Gesane...”

“You can’t be stuck in here! You’re the only person left with both clout and a moral compass!”

“I think perhaps you give me too much credit on both accounts.”

“Let me do this.”

Gesane retreated from Teba’s roost to the next one on this level, his insides in knots which only seemed to get worse with each step. It made him wonder if there had ever been a time when he felt calm and well; certainly not since he had met Ariane. Though when he thought back to a time before he knew her, the memories seemed grey and flat.

“Gesane,” said Kaneli in surprise, “I don’t normally take meetings this early, but please, come in.”

“I’m returning to my roost,” he said harshly, “you can release Teba from his confinement.”

“After your brazen disregard for your duty, I need more than that from you,” said Kaneli.

“You’ve already taken my dignity” Gesane spat bitterly, “would you have my honour as well?”

“I recognize that you were not happy with Bedoli, and I’ve given her permission to wed Huck so you need not worry about being forced int a marriage with her. But you cannot carry on with Ariane; it is an affront to all we have fought to build. Set her aside and all of this will stop.”

Gesane weighed the elder’s words—he desperately wanted it all to stop. He was exhausted from the fear which followed him every waking hour and all through the night. He worried for Ariane whenever he wasn’t around, fearful that in a effort to strip Gesane of everything, someone might harm her. 

“Can you guarantee her safety?” Gesane asked.

“If you set her aside and vow to pledge yourself to Frita on her return, I will ensure no harm shall befall Ariane from any Rito so long as I live.”

The decision ripped through Gesane like shards of ice. When he spoke, he could already feel the raw ache in his throat turning his voice raspy.

“Alright.”

oOo

As the hour of his watch approached, Gesane reached the guard’s post at the foot of the village. He found Guy taking over for Raza in Mazli’s absence.

“You’ve only been back a few days and already Teba’s put you to work,” Gesane tried to joke, but he was far too full of dread and his voice felt flat.

Guy reached out his wing and gripped Gesane’s elbow in a warrior’s exchange. Gesane held on to his friend’s wing somewhat longer than usual.

“You seem...uneasy,” Guy noted.

“I need a favour,” said Gesane, gripping Guy’s elbow a little harder.

“Anything.”

“Come wait on the bridge for me at the end of our watch.”

“Should I be worried by this?” Guy asked warily as Gesane pulled his wing from his grip.

Gesane shook his head and took up his spear from the guard’s post and crossed the bridges to relieve Skovo. As he reached the end of the bridge to the mainland, he walked out past the rocks that obscured the view of the stable so he could observe the goings on beyond the edge of the village.

The sun had risen high over the rocky landscape which hemmed in Rito territory and it beamed brightly through the sparse clouds. For Gesane, the only part of the world illuminated was Ariane as she swept the front of the stable yard. A small smile that hinted of her no-longer-secret affection betrayed her inner radiance. Gesane had felt that way too, once. Now he felt as though his world had turned to ash.

The watch passed slowly, the sun tracking laggardly through the sky before it finally dipped behind the mountains. In the cooler night air, Gesane found himself shivering a little with dread as he paced up and down the bridge at a much faster pace than usual. When he saw Skovo coming to relieve him, his insides felt like stone...he could put this off no longer.

Gesane crossed the stable yard to where Ariane sat by the cooking pot, awaiting him as she sometimes did at the end of the night. When she saw him, her face split with a grin and she met him partway and reached out for his wing. The Hylians—none of whom Gesane recognized as stable regulars—could not help but stare as she reached up to his neck to pull him in for a kiss. With those eyes upon him, he stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes searching his face.

“Ariane,” he said as steadily as he could.

Her smile degraded as she read his expression.

“Are you alright?” she asked, resting her hand on his cheek.

He pressed his wing over her small hand and shook his head slightly. He could already feel his eyes and throat burning at what he needed to say—what he dreaded to say.

“Let me help,” she said.

Growing self-conscious under stares from the cooking pot, he took her hand and she followed him out behind the woodshed.

“Gesane, just tell me what’s wrong,” she begged him, her voice taking on a small note of panic.

Gesane held both of her hands between his wings and touched his beak to them.

“This has to end,” he finally managed.

She shook her head, her eyes growing shiny with tears that she refused to let fall.

“No,” she said firmly.

“Ariane—”

“We’ve been through too much— _you’ve_ been through too much to let this go. We’ve fought too hard to have this to just cast it aside.”

“I can’t keep fighting on all sides,” Gesane said, despising the hollowness in tone as his eyes prickled.

“What I—the way I feel about you—I never thought I’d say those words to anyone.”

“I never thought I’d hear them. Or say them in return,” Gesane told her, those words now too painful to repeat, “but I have my duty.”

“What? To go hatch a bunch of eggs with someone you can’t even tolerate?” she asked angrily, pulling her hands from his and wiping away the tear which had escaped.

Though she had quickly dried the evidence of her sadness, the end of her nose had grown pink. Gesane wanted nothing more then to gather her close to him and beg her to run away with him.

“This isn’t about eggs,” said Gesane “I owe a debt to my First Warrior...and if I cannot be here with you...I need to know you are safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” she told him.

“I know, but not if someone wants to teach me a lesson. I couldn’t live with that.”

Ariane reached out to him. He wrapped her in his wings, his tears finally rolling down his beak as pressed it to her hair.

“Is this heartbreak?” she asked into his leather armour.

“I suppose it must be,” he said clenching his beak against the sorrow which so desperately tried to escape.

She lifted her head to kiss him.

“I never want to let you go,” he said.

“Then don’t.”

“You know I must.”

“How am I to live every day knowing that you are steps away?” she asked, her chest contracting with a suppressed sob.

“We can be strong,” said Gesane, “we can live in hope that tomorrow things may change. I will be with no one else.”

“If things change...” she said doubtfully.

Gesane nodded; Goddess how he wished they would. She ran her hands down his wings one last time as he pulled away. As he turned away he heard her try to hold back the whimper which turned into sobs and nearly lost his resolve. Taking a deep breath, his hid his face with his wing as he walked past the stable. 

Guy met him at the end of the bridge, and said nothing as he put a wing around his shoulders. Gesane covered his beak with both wings and let Guy walk him up the bridge past Skovo. Gesane hadn’t told Guy his plans but he seemed to understand something of what had transpired. When they reached the guard’s post, Teba stood impatiently inside of the structure.

“Teba, can this wait until tomorrow?” Guy asked, his wing tightening around Gesane as though he could shield him from harm.

“Did something happen on your watch?” he asked staring at them both.

“You can tell Kaneli that I’ve done as he’s asked,” said Gesane numbly.

“Gesane...” Teba sighed.

“It’s better this way,” Gesane said, biting back the hollow hitch in his chest which threatened to undo the tiny bit of mastery he had regained over his sorrow.

“You’re wing is bleeding, are you injured?” Teba asked.

Gesane glanced down at the blood which had dripped through the shortened feathers.

“Blood feather,” he said.

He must have damaged it on Ariane’s clothes, he thought. Normally these things hurt, but somehow Gesane couldn’t feel it over the void that had taken over his insides.

“Go get it taken care of,” said Teba softly, “we’ll deal with the reports tomorrow.”

Guy walked him back to his roost in silence, his wing still wrapped protectively around Gesane. Gesane stumbled unfeelingly through the doorway and pulled himself into his hammock. He let his bleeding wing hang over the side and wretchedly hoped that the little drop of blood he had heard hit the floor left a stain on his rug to remind him of all his sins.

“Do you need help?” Guy asked.

“I don’t care,” Gesane said, closing his eyes.

“Fine,” said Guy as he took Gesane’s wing and plucked the offending feather.

“I didn’t say you could do that!” Gesane hissed as Guy pressed a cloth to his wing to stop the bleeding.

“You’re being pitiful.”

“I’m actually doing much better,” Gesane told him, “which is due in no small part to the love of a woman...that I just threw away...”

Everything he had been holding back came crashing down with those words. In his effort to free Teba and ensure Ariane was safe, he had lost the only thing in his life worth living for. Gesane covered his face and silently wept, the pain smothering the sound of his cries. Guy rested his wing on Gesane’s chest.

“I meant about the feather, I’m sorry,” said Guy in shame as he smoothed the feathers above Gesane’s cuirass.

“I thought I had run out of tears when I mourned the loss of my wings. I thought they had taken everything from me that night, but now I see I still had much more to lose. Everything I did to save it, only hastened its demise,” Gesane sobbed.

Guy said nothing—perhaps there was nothing to be said—as he continued keep pressure on Gesane’s bleeding wing and took it upon himself to stay the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered how Kass came to have the photo of the Champions, so I traced it back. I imagine Olin stole it from Purah, who had it in her not yet set-up Hateno lab somewhere before the Calamity.


	13. Apparitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teba makes a decision; Harth faces Laissa.

“Teba,” said Skovo in surprise, “I’m not used to seeing you so late...or early?”

Dawn had not yet broken as Teba came to land on the mainland near the end of the bridge. The day was quickly approaching that Harth would face Laissa at the Flight Range and Kaneli had once again reminded Teba that losing was not an option. Teba had approached Guy in hopes that he would be a willing substitute, but having recently suffered an arrow through his wing, he tired easily and found it difficult to manage aerial combat for the extensive period that the challenge required. Teba regretted laying the responsibility of this upon Harth, who would likely suffer a crisis of conscience, win or lose.

“Peace, Skovo,” said Teba, gesturing that the guard needn’t worry about his presence.

Truth be told, Teba had grown nearly as sleepless as Harth. As he had left the village from Revali’s Landing, he saw Harth sitting in the back of his roost, beak resting on his chest and bow in his lap as his body overtook his mind in the battle for rest. 

Teba stood along the edge of the drop-off to Lake Totori and stared at Medoh above. The beast remained just as it had since Link had calmed it—perched on the stone branch and emitting a red beam which cut through the sky to Central Hyrule. Teba’s eyes searched the beast itself, hoping to catch a glimpse of the spirit within. He had heard reports from the guards that they sometimes saw him atop Medoh’s wing, gazing down at the village below. Teba wondered if their guardian spirit would be offended to see how the Rito had shrunk from a civilization that thrived throughout Hyrule to this sequestered little stone of infighting.

Teba eventually found himself sitting by the cooking pot near the stable, staring into the flames as he tried to find a resolution to his worries. He glanced up as Ariane passed by with her pitchfork in hand. She cast him a dark look and Teba felt the guilt that had become his companion these past moons emerge again to greet him. He was no longer welcome here, he realized. He returned to the village in the updrafts over the lake.

The earliest hint of sunlight was turning the sky pale as Teba came to rest on Revali’s Landing. He glanced over into Harth’s roost to see his friend leaned back against the railing in his uncomfortable slumber, his bow still clutched in his hands. Teba sighed and went inside to see if he might coerce Harth into his hammock.

“What?” Harth grumbled as Teba slid the bow from his hands.

“It’s alright.”

Harth opened his eyes more fully, alarmed to find Teba crouching in front of him.

“Did something happen?” asked Harth asked as his warrior’s instincts pushed him to full consciousness.

“Nothing’s happened,” Teba assured him, “but you face Laissa tomorrow. Do you really want to do it after sleeping so uncomfortably?”

“Molli was restless last night,” said Harth gesturing up to his hammock where his daughter slept, “she’s all I have to live for and I’m failing her.”

Teba rested his wing on Harth’s shoulder as he covered his face with his wing.

“That’s not true,” Teba assured him.

“She can barely fly,” Harth whispered, “and she’s so small.”

“She’s still growing,” Teba said, though he wondered if Molli’s tiny wings would ever serve her.

Harth shook his head and Teba squeezed his shoulder a little more firmly.

“Saki and I are both here for you,” Teba reminded him, “and Molli. If this is ever too much and you want us to keep her for the night, you need only ask.”

Harth nodded and gently pushed Teba away as he rose. He walked over to the side table where he crafted, straightening his carving tools while he considered the bows he had laid out.

“What kind of bow does Laissa use?” Harth asked.

Teba could see that Harth had once more pushed aside the grief and worry that had overtaken him. Teba feared what might happen the day that dam broke.

“A falcon bow,” Teba told him.

“I’ve never made a falcon bow for Laissa,” said Harth, “it must be one of my father’s.”

“I would hazard even older by the finish.”

Harth lifted a faded and familiar swallow bow. As he held the grip and turned it easily in his hand, Teba caught sight of the maker’s mark.

“I’m going with a swallow bow,” Harth decided, “the one my father made me when I became a novice.”

“It’s a challenge of accuracy; use the one you’re most comfortable with.”

“I’m waiting for the crowd to jeer at my choice,” said Harth darkly.

“Again,” Teba reiterated, “this is about accuracy, not who has the bigger bow.”

“You know,” said Harth in lieu of nothing as he checked the bow for faults, “your son is bound to marry one of Kass and Amali’s girls.”

Teba was momentarily stunned into silence. Teba opened and closed his beak a couple of times, unsure of how to respond as Harth buffed at a spot on the flared limb tip.

“They’re too young to discuss this,” Teba said finally.

“Kaneli’s going to ensure that it happens right away,” said Harth, “just as he did for you and Saki.”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“Because, Teba, when you and Saki lost that first egg, don’t you think you were terribly young to have to deal with that all on your own?”

Teba stood frozen to his spot. Given Harth’s reaction all those years ago when Teba had broken down over that first hopeful egg that had sparkled with life one week only to be ringed with blood the next, Teba would have never imagined that Harth would again broach that topic so long as he lived.

“Harth, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at with this, but rest assured—it remains painful to revisit.”

“When they were trying to set us all up, my father made Kaneli hold off,” said Harth, “you didn’t have anyone left to fight for you _but_ Kaneli, and his interests were very different than what your parents would have wanted.”

“I can’t know what my parents would have wanted on that score,” said Teba evenly.

“Well, what do you want for your son?” Harth asked, “shall he do as he wishes and train as a warrior or burn himself out trying to make up for the population we couldn’t?”

Teba could feel that familiar ache growing in his leg as he considered Harth’s words. Teba had always been so focused on getting Tulin into the world and keeping him safe from harm that he had never considered the damage his own youth had left on him. It suddenly occurred to Teba that the game in which Harth and Amali were engaged was far more dangerous than a simple affair.

“I don’t think it’s safe to discuss this here,” Teba intoned.

“I need to go to the Flight Range anyway,” said Harth restlessly.

“Dad?”

Molli peeked over the edge of Harth’s hammock. Teba wondered just how much she had heard as Harth reached up and lifted her under her wings.

“Can I go to the Flight Range with you?” she asked, resting her tousled head against his shoulder.

Harth straightened her feathers as he combed his beak across her head.

“Not today, Acorn,” he told her.

Her face fell in disappointment.

“But,” offered Teba, “I’m sure Tulin would like to play with you today.”

Harth cast him a grateful look as Teba collected the swallow bow and walked with them over to his own roost.

“Harth and I are going to the Flight Range,” Teba told Saki quietly, “if you wish to join us later...it seems as though Harth has something important we may both need to know.”

“I have an engagement with Amali,” Saki replied furtively.

Teba wondered if he was the last one in on what he was growing to suspect was some sort of conspiracy. Before he set out for Revali’s Landing with Harth, Teba leaned in to touch his beak to Saki’s.

He walked in silence to the landing with Harth and stood for a moment on the edge to check that their weapons were secure.

“That was nice,” said Harth conversationally as he took flight.

“What are you talking about?” asked Teba as he caught up with him.

“You and Saki. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.”

“Surely you must have,” said Teba, growing unexpectedly flustered.

“When you exchanged vows I suppose...but that was...I mean it was clear that you had never touched before.”

“Where do you get the sudden leave to say these things to me?” Teba asked in aggravation.

“Perhaps the delirium of sleeplessness,” Harth shrugged as a means of excusing himself.

As they set down at the Flight Range, Harth checked for practice arrows while Teba lit the fire under the cooking pot. Teba took an experimental dive into the range basin and returned when he was certain that he and Harth were alone.

“What is it you were trying so desperately to tell me about our children’s futures?” Teba asked.

“Only that we need to stand up to Kaneli so that what happened to us—the early marriages, the constant pressure to have eggs—doesn’t happen to them.”

“Say I agree with you,” posited Teba, “that still doesn’t negate the fact that the Rito are facing their doom.”

“Amali had some thoughts on that as well...they were...unconventional.”

“Unconventional...how?” asked Teba warily.

“As it is, we confine all reproductive activity to marriage—”

“Oh, Goddess Harth!” hissed Teba, “ _are_ you having an affair with her?”

Harth looked stunned his eyebrows contracted in disgust.

“No, of course not,” said Harth angrily, “actually, Gesane was the one who put it in my head.”

“You’ve been discussing this with Gesane?” asked Teba, wondering just how long it had taken his friends to loop him in to this intrigue.

“Can you shut your beak and listen for a moment? The night we took Gesane to the elder he said something about marriages being a way to uphold old ways, but if Kaneli were really interested in preserving the flock, alternatives could always be found.”

“What you’re describing are...affairs,” Teba pointed out.

“And children of affairs have been notoriously hidden away, but it’s more than that—we’ve just come to think that perhaps if we are to survive we need to be a little less rigid about some of these things. Who’s to say that someone in a relationship where they can’t reproduce couldn’t make some sort of arrangement? Why couldn’t Gesane, for example, arrange to raise a child with a Rito woman who is not his wife? It’s what he seemed to be implying.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with our _children_.”

“Even if this is not a palatable solution to our current predicament,” said Harth, “we have to change something...because I don’t want Molli to...”

Harth covered his beak with the back of his wing and Teba became aware that he worried that Antilli’s fate might await their daughter.

“I’m with you,” Teba assured him, “after this challenge we can petition Kaneli or whatever it takes to keep our children safe.”

Teba walked Harth to the edge of the landing.

“For now though, you must focus on this.”

oOo

Teba trained with Harth through the day, hoping that by nightfall they would both be exhausted. They sat near the cooking pot as they ate their evening meal of fish skewers and Teba watched Harth as he shifted uncomfortably and rolled his shoulder.

“Were you injured?” Teba asked him.

“Just tired.”

“You should sleep, Harth,” said Teba, “I’m not sure I trust you flying.”

“But Molli—” 

“Is with Saki. You no longer have someone to share in this responsibility—let us help you.”

“I’m a failure as a father,” Harth moaned as he pulled himself bodily into the lower hammock.

“Oh quit whining; your daughter adores you,” said Teba as he settled into the adjacent hammock.

“I feel like I’ve somehow ended up in my father’s life and I can’t live up to his example.”

Teba listened to the wind that howled through the basin. His own father’s legacy was one which Kaneli had never let him forget.

“Me too,” he admitted softly.

“So how do we break out of our roles of second-rate bow-maker and First Warrior who lived?”

“I dunno, Harth,” sighed Teba, “just close your eyes.”

Teba stared at the rafters above as Harth shifted restlessly, his motion setting Teba’s hammock rocking slightly. Eventually, Harth’s breathing grew even. When Teba peeked over the edge he saw Harth curled on his side, his blanket balled up and clutched to his chest. 

Teba lit quietly from his hammock and checked to make sure that Harth remained in slumber. He had not taken the guards’ reports at midday and they would be changing again soon. Teba leapt into the updraft and returned to the guard’s post at the foot of the village to find Mazli and Guy in conversation.

“Guy, I didn’t realize you were on duty,” said Teba.

“I just came down to make sure Gesane made it back,” said Guy, casting Teba a dark look as he continued across the bridge.

“Well?” Teba asked Mazli.

“Nothing to report.”

“Is Laissa prepared for tomorrow?”

“She’s going to put an arrow in Harth’s wing. _Figuratively_ ,” Mazli clarified at Teba’s horrified expression.

When Raza arrived to take over Mazli’s post, Teba took his report from earlier before he flew down to the first bridge to meet Gesane. Gesane’s expression hardened as he caught sight of Teba while he spoke with Guy. The two remained unfazed as Teba set down on the bridge.

“Nothing to report,” said Gesane tersely, turning to leave the moment he saw Skovo coming to relieve him.

Skovo’s report was similarly quiet. Teba was about to leave when he heard footfalls on the bridge from the mainland. He turned to find Kass.

“Back again, are you?” Teba asked, approaching him.

“To stay, hopefully,” said Kass as they stepped back onto the mainland to gazed up at Vah Medoh.

“You always walk?”

“Only when I need the time to think,” said Kass, turning toward the village.

“Kass,” said Teba, halting his progress, “if our children were to marry...”

“Teba, I think our children are too young to discuss the possibility of marriage.”

“That’s not it...” Teba stammered as he grew disgruntled, “you know what, your wife will probably do a better job of explaining it.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Would that I could unburden myself,” Teba sighed.

Kass stared at Teba for moment, his expression inscrutable but not unkind.

“Teba...I know that our relationship has sometimes been turbulent, but I hope you know that you can trust me.”

Teba stared at the Divine Beast, still as stone above them. Something that Kaneli had said the night he had tried to talk Teba and Harth out of their foolish endeavour still rattled around his head. He glanced at Kass wondering how amenable the bard would be to such a plot.

“Kass, when you and Genik began the coup against Kyvoro—”

Kass made a noise of strangled surprise as though the topic was one he had never imagined would be brought up from the depths of the ignominy where it had been buried.

“I didn’t mean for this to come across so bluntly,” Teba said by means of apology.

“Is someone planning a coup against you?” Kass asked in concern.

“No...probably not.”

They stood in silence until Kass adjusted the straps on pack uncomfortably.

“Perhaps this is a conversation for another time,” Kass said lightly, “I have to return home for a row with Amali.”

“Everyone knows what that means and you aren’t subtle,” Teba said to Kass’s back as he set out across the bridge.

“Perhaps you and Saki ought to try it,” Kass called in return, “it helps with the misplaced anger.”

As Teba considered how they might protect their children from the fates they had suffered, Teba’s eyes caught the figure of a Rito atop Medoh. It was a shimmer of a being, but Teba could make out the beak lifted in pride as he surveyed the land from his perch. 

Then Revali gazed down at him. Teba felt his feathers raise against the chill that took him as he stared back to that apparition above. When Teba blinked, he was gone, and Teba wondered if he had set eyes on the Champion at all. He had, he reminded himself. Revali had held his gaze, and the recollection emboldened him.

oOo

The morning came clear and bright. Outside of the Flight Range the sun glinted off of the fresh snow in a myriad of tiny flashes of light. Rito were already assembling along the edge of the basin as Harth and Laissa stood inside the structure, checking their equipment. Teba had stayed in support of Harth, and Mazli stood with Laissa.

Harth was checking the fletching on the bomb arrows he was to use in the last two rounds of the challenge when Kaneli’s talons clattered on the landing. Harth glanced at Laissa to see that her eyebrows had lowered a little to see the elder. It seemed that she, too, knew Kaneli’s position on this.

“I’ve come to wish you both luck in the upcoming event,” said Kaneli, his gaze resting meaningfully on Harth.

“Thank you, Elder,” they both said.

“No doubt the outcome will be impressive.”

Harth would have been lying to say he was not nervous about this competition. Kaneli had made it quite clear to both him and Teba that he would not accept a loss, but Antilli had long ago softened Harth on the topic of women serving as warriors. Harth had rarely suffered such quandaries about his honour. 

When Guy set down on the landing to act as judge, Kaneli took off to stand among those from the village who had congregated to view the event. Harth looked down to where Saki held Molli. When his daughter caught sight of him, she waved frantically, her childish shouts of ‘good luck’ lost in the howling of the wind.

“We’re all clear on the rules?” Guy checked as Harth returned to his place, “three rounds of ten regular arrows, two rounds of ten bomb arrows. Any round where fewer than seven targets hit amounts to immediate disqualification. Challenger goes first.”

Laissa brushed her beak against Mazli’s just before she stepped out onto the landing to cheers and—to Harth’s disgust—some hisses from the crowd. Mazli bristled as he looked out at those gathered along the basin’s edge, but Laissa smiled as she dived into the currents as swooped upward to take aim. She scored a perfect ten on her first round.

As she landed at the structure, Teba clamped his hand on Harth’s shoulder from behind, his beak nearly touching Harth’s braid.

“Whatever you do, you have my full support,” he said under his breath, “just make it look good.”

Harth nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Unlike Laissa, he ran across the landing without awaiting the crowd’s response and rode the winds as high as they would go. He performed a quick circle to sight his targets, whipped out his bow and began to take out his targets in free fall. He spread his wings and caught himself so close to the water that he could have reached out a talon to ripple it. When he landed, Guy informed him that he had made his ten targets.

He ignored the cheers as he returned to Teba, his heart pounding with adrenaline as Teba handed him his second batch of arrows in preparation. When Laissa returned, she had hit only eight of her targets. Harth’s second round yielded nine.

“You’re leading by one,” Teba told him as Laissa leapt into the winds in for her third round.

Laissa returned with another perfect ten. Harth’s third round was also a perfect score. When they switched to bomb arrows, Laissa returned from the second-last round with her third perfect round.

Harth gathered his bomb arrows and stepped off of the landing into the updraft. He chanced a glance at the crowd below as he circled. His heart stuttered at he saw her standing serenely among the crowd, her dark russet feathers not moving though the wind howled around her.

“Antilli,” he whispered, blinking furiously.

_Don’t lose focus on my account._

Shaken, Harth caught himself and somehow managed to pull off ten shots. The grit and smoke from the explosions and smell of sulphur whipped around Harth as he shakily spread his wings to return to the landing. He stumbled a little as he landed and Guy caught his wing. Teba stepped forward and held out his wing in concern.

“I’m okay,” Harth said as Guy let him go and he reached out to Teba.

“You sure?” Teba asked, his eyes searching for some sign of injury as he pulled Harth into the lodge.

“I’m fine,” Harth responded through the strange silence that seemed to have taken over his hearing.

Still holding Teba’s wing in his shaking hand, Harth gazed desperately out at the crowd. Whatever he had thought he saw from such great heights had disappeared.

“You had nine on this round,” Teba told him, “you are in a tie.”

“Another perfect score,” Guy announced as Laissa landed.

“Can I back out?” Harth whispered, his heart still hammering in his chest.

“No,” said Teba, handing him the last of his bomb arrows, “it’s one round, just finish.”

Harth took a deep breath before he spread his wings in the current. A final glance at the crowd told him what he had always known—Antilli was lost to him and no amount of wishing could change that. As he plunged, he released nine arrows in the direction of the targets. On the tenth, his bow snapped. 

Harth screeched in surprise more than pain as the splintered wood snapped back across his wing and he let go of the grip and spread his wings to catch himself. He landed gracelessly beside Guy and stared at the blood welling in the cut on the inside of his wing. He looked up as Teba called his name, unable to process anything through the buzzing in his head.

“Harth!” 

“I think my bow broke,” he told Teba numbly as his friend pressed a square of torn linen against his wing.

“Laissa won by three targets,” Teba informed him.

Harth smiled a little as he turned. Laissa and Mazli threw their wings around one another, Mazli lifting her slightly in celebration. For all Huck had said about love being dead in Rito Village, Harth could see that wasn’t the case for these young warriors.

Harth took over holding the dressing to his injury while Teba approached Laissa and grasped her wing in a warrior’s exchange.

“If you wish to be fully fledged, I will try to make arrangements for you to take the trials,” Teba told her.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully as they released each other.

When Kaneli returned to the landing, Harth could see the displeasure on his face as he congratulated Laissa. Teba cast Mazli a warning look as Kaneli turned toward Harth, and Mazli took Laissa quietly by the wing and left the lodge.

“If your bow broke you can demand a rematch,” Kaneli told Harth.

“My bow broke on the last target,” protested Harth, “I had already lost.”

“Was this arranged?” Kaneli asked the two of them.

“Why would I arrange to lose?” Harth asked acerbically, trying to muster some of his old intransigence.

“Teba, don’t let this happen again,” said Kaneli, turning and taking off into the updraft.

Harth stood silently in the Flight Range structure, still holding the linen to the cut on his wing.

“Don’t listen to Kaneli,” Teba told Harth “this isn’t your fault,” 

“She beat me,” said Harth flatly, “I didn’t throw the contest.”

Just then, Guy returned from the basin, the remains of Harth’s swallow bow clutched in his talons. He set them down on the landing and shook the water from his feathers. Catching sight of the expression on Harth’s face, Guy lifted the pieces from the floorboards and brought them to Harth. The wood was saturated with freezing water and the forming ice clung to the barbs of Harth’s feathers as he cradled the pieces of the gift his father had crafted special for him.

“Guy, tell Saki to take Molli home,” Teba quietly told the warrior.

Harth tried to bite back his tears as he stared at the bow, broken beyond repair. Teba rested a wing gently on his shoulder while Harth’s hands shook. Seeing the broken pieces squeezed Harth’s lungs with bitter loss and he could no longer fight the pain that had been welling inside him for so long.

“Teba,” he said, his voice thick and strange to him as he felt his tears slide down his face to his neck.

Teba caught him under the wing as he went down, unable able to hold back the sobs which seemed to rip through his entire being. Harth pressed his face to the crook of Teba’s wing as his knees hit the floorboards. His friend’s wings tightened around him as he choked and struggled to even draw breath over the ache in his heart.

“I’ve got you,” Teba said with unbearable gentleness.

“She would have been...so glad,” Harth managed through his hiccoughs, his tears rolling onto Teba’s wing.

“I know,” Teba told him, and Harth could hear the catch in his voice as Teba pressed his forehead to Harth’s hair, “you did her proud.”

To hear Teba weeping with him undid the little control that remained to Harth. The pieces of broken bow fell to the floorboards as Harth gripped Teba’s clothes, a screech of grief escaping him. It was a release of agony that Harth did not realize had burrowed so deeply into him. The hollowness he had felt while he had insisted over and over again that he was fine had been filled by a searing ache that tore at his insides and choked him as he wept. Teba pressed his beak to his feathers and held him close.

“You did good,” Teba murmured, smoothing back Harth’s hair, “she’s proud of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I've done a small restructure: this will be 16 chapters instead of the previously advertised 15.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


	14. To Be for One Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A party to celebrate Laissa’s victory provides excellent cover for a covert meeting.

It was nearing the usual hour of their evening meal when Kass and Amali stood on Revali’s Landing with their daughters. After the earlier excitement of the challenge at the Flight Range, Mazli had proposed a celebration of Laissa’s victory. Apparently, Galli had been delighted to have the stable host a Rito celebration, as such things made their way through the Rumour Mill and increased visitors to the region. It didn’t hurt that the Hylians at the stable seemed to like the idea of a party to break up the monotony.

“Remember,” Amali told the girls, “don’t leave sight of the stable.”

“Ughhhh, we _know_ ,” complained Genli.

Kass had noticed that Genli had remained sullen since his return, and Amali informed him that she was still missing Fyson.

“And don’t drink any hard cider,” warned Kass, “Hylians can drink it but it will make you very sick.”

“Can we go now?” begged Kheel bouncing impatiently.

“Yes, let’s go,” said Amali.

As they set out across the lake, Kass felt the tiniest chill of autumn in the pleasant summer air. He glanced at his family, so happy to once more be near them that his heart could burst. It was with a twinge of guilt that he thought about his last conversation with Link. The Champion had set his jaw and told Kass that he was ready to face Ganon and free the princess. Kass prayed the Goddess would guide Link each time he recalled the determination in his eyes.

When they set down at the stable, Kass was reminded of the night he and Amali had pledged themselves to one another. A bonfire roared, Rito and Hylians milled about together, the smell of roasting meats and fish mingled with freshly fried campfire flatbread. The children scrambled off almost immediately to join the game that Tulin, Molli and Keth were playing with two Hylian children.

“I don’t see Laissa anywhere,” said Amali as she looked around.

“Perhaps she wishes to make an entrance.”

Kass’s eye caught two figures in the sky coming from the Flight Range. He turned to see Teba and Harth set down at the edge of the festivities and wondered what had kept them. Kass watched as Saki met them and reached out to wrap Harth in her wings before letting him go and touching her beak to Teba’s. 

“Here they are,” Amali said, pointing to the sky.

Mazli and Laissa dipped and swooped a little as they flew out from the village before setting down beside the stable to cheers from the Rito and Hylians alike. Kass suspected the latter had already had their fair share of cider and were ready to join in with anything at this point in the evening.

“We have an announcement,” called Laissa as Mazli smiled giddily beside her, “after my victory, we decided to do something we’ve been putting off, and that’s the real reason for this gathering.”

“We’ve said our vows! We’re starting our life together!” Mazli said, pulling Laissa close as they both grinned.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” started a chorus from the inebriated Hylians in the crowd.

Laissa and Mazli looked at one another, positively glowing. Laissa shrugged and they brushed their beaks together to a raucous cheer from the Hylian quarter. Amali slid her wing around Kass’s waist, a half-smile lighting her eyes as she gazed up at him.

“We ought to congratulate them,” she said.

“Then let’s go,” said Kass as he wrapped his wing around Amali’s shoulders.

“Kass, Amali!” Mazli greeted them, his crooked beak not marring the pure delight on his face.

“We’re so happy for both of you,” said Kass, taking Mazli’s wing in congratulations as Amali wrapped Laissa in her wings and offered her congratulations, “though parties such as this are not usually Rito custom.”

“Well,” said Mazli, “I must confess, we did model it after yours.”

“I don’t think you were tall enough to hold a bow when Amali and I wed,” said Kass in surprise.

“I wasn’t,” Mazli agreed, “but life back then was so austere. The night that you two wed, my parents brought me down to the stable and it was the first time that I saw such _life_. Rito, Hylians, enjoying the world and each other’s company. It left an impression.”

“I had no idea,” said Kass.

“And...Laissa cornered me and wanted to touch beaks that night,” he added, grinning at the memory.

Kass breathed out a laugh.

“What was I to do? She was so much taller than I was!”

“I’m glad you’ve found happiness in one another,” said Kass, “it’s rare. Never take it for granted.”

“Thank you, Kass,” said Mazli, gripping Kass’s shoulder.

Kass turned to rejoin Amali but couldn’t see her anywhere. Not troubled by her absence, he checked up on the children, who still frolicked about with their friends. As he stood by the bonfire watching them in the darkening evening, Harth came to stand by his side.

“I thought you did well today,” Kass attempted, “it was right that Laissa should formally join the guard.”

“She did it by her own merits.”

They stood in silence and Kass watched Harth’s eyes, fixed upon Laissa and Mazli as they received their congratulations.

“This must be difficult for you,” observed Kass.

“Strangely, it feels as though it should be more difficult,” confessed Harth, as he watched Kaneli’s path to the edge of the lake.

“I’m surprised that Kaneli didn’t stay longer,” Kass commented as the elder spread his silent wings and made for the village.

“This is good for us,” said Harth, “come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just follow me,” Harth instructed, gesturing with his head as he set out behind the stable.

Kass glanced back the the children who ran about, screeching and laughing with a delight he had so rarely heard. He wondered if this party would fill their memories with life and happiness they way a long-ago one had Mazli’s.

Kass followed Harth deeper into the woods behind the stable where Amali, Saki, and Teba awaited them. Kass had the unwelcome feeling that he had walked into some sort of ambush. Amali glared obstinately at Teba while Saki rested a lenitive hand on his wing. Kass stepped in beside his wife and the three widened their circle to include Kass and Harth. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Kass sighed.

“Kass,” said Amali, taking his wings, “we’ve been discussing the future of the village...our children’s futures...”

Kass glanced over to Teba, wondering if this had anything to do with their unintelligible conversation the night before.

“So this is what you and Harth have been discussing?” Kass asked.

“Yes.”

“Am I to finally be let in on this conspiracy?” Kass asked the group as Amali let go of his wings.

“Don’t call it that,” said Harth.

“Kass,” said Saki, “you came to the village well into adulthood.”

“I do recall.”

“And while things are not nearly so grim for our children as they were for us growing up,” Saki continued, “every aspect of our lives had been focused on procreation.”

Kass recalled well the feeling of being only a means to an end when Kaneli had come to congratulate them on their full nest.

“Kaneli’s even asked when _we_ will be having more,” Amali told him.

Kass sighed warily, knowing that he could not bear another season of brooding at his age.

“Mazli and Laissa married tonight, Huck and Bedoli will no doubt be soon to follow,” said Amali, “and when Fyson returns—”

“His only match is my daughter,” Harth interjected jaggedly.

Saki reached out to Harth and took his wing to calm him.

“Kass,” Amali said, “because you brought new blood into the tribe, our daughters are considered extremely marriageable.”

“I’m trying to follow what you’re telling me,” Kass conceded, “and I have never embraced the Rito custom of arranged marriages, but is marriage not merely a part of life?”

Teba and Saki glanced at one another. She tilted her head a little at him and he sighed as though he did not want to add his voice to the discussion.

“Kaneli can and does interfere where marriages are concerned if he is not met with resistance,” said Teba, “Saki and I were far too young to be pressed into such a decision.”

“So we resist, we don’t let this happen our children.”

“Kass. The reason that Saki and Teba were bullied into marriage was because...” Amali trailed off, glancing at her friend.

“Because we had no family left to protect us,” Saki said softy.

“Then we make a pact. If we don’t survive to see our children to adulthood we die knowing our friends—” Kass looked meaningfully at Teba and Harth, “—will stand in the way of anyone who tries to compel them to marry against their will.”

“This runs so much deeper than that,” said Harth, shaking his head, “transgressions are being punished with unprecedented harshness, we’ve lost freedoms we barely remember having in pursuit of rebuilding the flock, and these marriages just aren’t productive the way that Kaneli thought they would be.”

“It seems as though you have an idea of what you wish to do about this. Am I to finally learn of it?” Kass pressed.

“We must...”

Teba exhaled harshly as though he could not bring himself to say the rest. Kass looked at the others who waited on Teba.

Finally, Teba said, “Kaneli must be ousted.”

“Oh...I see,” said Kass at length.

“Someone must stand against him,” agreed Saki.

Kass glanced around at their expectant expressions and suddenly realized they meant to put him against Kaneli.

“No,” said Kass flatly.

“We didn’t come to this decision lightly,” sighed Harth.

“Regardless of your consideration, I am the wrong choice for such a role.”

“Why do you think that?” Saki asked.

“I’ve never fit in here. I have been the target of abuse and harassment for my ignorance of your ways—much of it from you—” he snapped, glaring at Teba and Harth, “and I don’t wish to insert myself into the fabric of a politics that I am still not entirely sure that I understand and with which I have _certainly_ never agreed.”

“Kass, your worldly knowledge is what would make you valuable for that position,” reasoned Saki, “and you’re kind, you weigh your decisions so others will not suffer, and...”

“And what, Saki?” Kass pressed when she trailed off.

“Oh, for Hylia’s sake I’ll say it,” Harth huffed, “you’re old enough to be taken seriously in that role.”

“But—” said Kass, “and correct me if I’m wrong—this must stand up to a vote. There is far too much at stake for me to stand against Kaneli.”

“Kass—” said Harth in annoyance.

“ _And_ , might I add, I don’t want to be held down by the two of you while my wings are clipped if I should fail!”

“That isn’t what happened!” Teba exploded.

“Teba,” said Saki, “he doesn’t know.”

“What don’t I know?”

“I regret so many things that have come to pass,” Teba very nearly shouted, “I clipped Gesane’s wings to protect him from Nekk, and Harth did not ‘hold him down’—he kept him standing. Every _moment_ of that night was regrettable, but it is the night that has led us here, to this night, where we decide to take back our fates.”

Teba stood breathing harshly and Kass shifted under the intensity of the gaze. He found he was relieved to discover that Teba and Harth had not acted out of cruelty.

“Teba,” said Kass, “the role of elder...perhaps you think yourself too young to be accepted, or perhaps you don’t wish to step down as First Warrior...but you are the only Rito among us who can stand against Kaneli.”

“I am afraid that I sullied my name the night Gesane was punished,” Teba lamented.

“I don’t think that’s true,” said Amali.

“Your warriors still respect you,” Harth assured him, “perhaps now more than ever because they’ve seen the lengths you’ve taken to protect those in your charge.”

“And the change you want is the change we all want,” Amali told him, “no one wants to feel pressured to lay eggs.”

Teba brushed his wing across his beak in frustration that his plan appeared to be falling apart. By the expressions on Amali and Harth’s faces, Kass wondered if it had been manufactured to do so.

“I don’t know if I have the strength left in me,” Teba admitted, “I don’t know that I have the courage to face Kaneli, or the wisdom to lead.”

Harth took Teba’s shoulders firmly.

“You have never lacked for courage,” said Harth, “judgment, certainly...but Kaneli has groomed you for this.”

“This may not be as he intended,” said Teba dryly.

“Teba,” said Kass, “I offer you my support and what wisdom I can lend...but it must be you; it could be no one else.”

“Is this really what you all think?” Teba asked, a note of betrayal in his tone as he glanced around at his friends.

“Of course,” agreed Amali as Harth nodded.

“Saki?” he asked, turning to his wife.

“I don’t want to cause you more strain,” she said, “but Kass is right—we cannot risk losing this.”

Teba took a deep breath and ran his wing across his beak once more in agitation. He raised his head and set his beak, his decision made.

“Then when do we do this?” asked Teba.

“Five days,” said Amali, “we need the time to—”

Whatever Amali was about to say was interrupted when the world exploded in a cold light and a cacophonous noise. They started and stared up to where a thick beam of bright light cut across the darkening sky, following the red trail which Vah Medoh emitted.

Without even a glance between them, the five of them ran back to the party to collect their children. Kass reached Cree and Molli where they huddled crying with their little wings around one another. As Harth caught up to Kass he passed Kotts to him and opened his wings to Molli. As Kass pulled Cree and Kotts close he could hear Harth beside him, comforting Molli over the sound of whatever was happening above.

By the time Amali, Saki and Teba found them, Medoh seemed to have settled. Amali held Notts and Kheel in each wing, while Teba carried a surprisingly calm Genli, and Saki soothed Tulin’s crying.

“I need to assemble the warriors,” said Teba, handing Genli off to Kass.

Cree was still sobbing painfully as Kass pulled Genli into his wings with her sisters.

“Teba, wait,” said Kass.

Teba stopped for just a moment, though his expression was one of incredible irritation.

“This isn’t a threat,” Kass told him.

“How do you know?” Teba asked.

“This is in support of Link’s fight...there’s nothing you can do to help him in this.”

Teba stared at Kass for a moment and glanced in the direction of the distant terminus of Medoh’s blast. It was evident to Kass that Teba wanted nothing more than to fly out in aid of the Hylian Champion.

“I know you want to help him, but only the Goddess can,” Kass told Teba, his throat raw with desperation, “our roles in this are complete.”

The gaze that Teba turned upon him was one of surprised comprehension. For the first time, Kass had the unfamiliar feeling that he and the warrior might have some common point of understanding.

“You’re needed _here_ ,” Kass reminded him, “we both are, now.”

oOo

When the chaos of the evening had calmed and everyone was judged to be alive and well, Saki returned to the village on foot with Tulin, Harth, and Molli while Teba met with his guards. Molli had fallen asleep in her father’s wings before they had even reached the second stack, and Tulin—his head resting heavily on Saki’s shoulder—would not be not long to follow.

As she walked the bridges with Harth, Saki was astonished by the comparative quiet that seemed to have overtaken the land after the chaos of Medoh’s blast and uproarious energy of the party before. The world was clear and calm, the sky scattered with a thousand stars above. Though she worried of what was to come, she felt a renewed sense of peace with Harth, though he was undeniably exhausted from his day.

“You truly told Kass nothing of our plans?” Saki remarked in a whisper.

“If I’ve learned anything about Kass, its that he still thinks himself more the outsider than anyone in the village does” Harth whispered in return.

“That was risky.”

“Kass would never have accepted...I just couldn’t believe that _he_ made the most persuasive argument for Teba.”

When they reached the guard’s post they hushed their conversation as they spotted Teba meeting with four of his guards.

“Skovo, Raza: resume your usual posts,” he dismissed them, “Guy, Gesane: go get some rest.”

As Saki and Harth approached, Teba reached out and gently laid his wing on the back of his sleeping son’s head. Something in Saki still glowed with warmth whenever Teba was so tender with their child. She found, as she gazed at her husband’s naturally stern features, the anger and resentment that she had harboured for him seemed to have melted away. Something had changed in these past few moons—Teba had become softer, less inclined to try to fight his problems with force, and more open. Saki was grateful for it.

“Bit of a late night,” said Saki, “we should let him sleep in a little tomorrow.”

“But what’s a successful party without a little chaos to top it off?” Harth joked darkly.

As the three of them took the stairs to the boardwalk, Saki was certain she could hear Mazli and Laissa’s love-making, their impassioned cries echoing out over the lake. Glancing at Harth’s amused expression, he, too had heard Mazli call Laissa’s name in the throes of passion. Teba looked characteristically irritated. 

“I guess they figured it out,” Harth said lightly over Laissa’s vocalized obscenity.

“I suspect this isn’t their first attempt,” Saki hazarded, trying to hide her smile.

“This conversation is wildly inappropriate,” grumbled Teba, glancing at their sleeping children.

Saki and Harth hid their smiles at Teba’s prudishness as they approached Harth’s roost. Saki reached out to cup her friend’s face affectionately. She wasn’t certain what had transpired after the challenge, but she wanted to assure him that she had her unwavering support. 

“If you should ever need us,” she reminded him, “we’re always here.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly before she let him go.

“Goodnight,” Teba bid him, resting his wing on Harth’s shoulder.

Teba and Saki returned to their roost in silence. She could tell that Teba was still considering the weight of the responsibility he had pledged to take on earlier that evening. As Saki laid Tulin in his hammock and tucked his blanket around him, Teba unfastened his leather armour and set it aside before he got into his hammock. 

Saki leapt into the hammock next to his and rested her head on her wing. She watched as Teba lay on his back with his wings gently folded on his breast and stared up at the rafters. She reached out and placed one of her wings over his and he clasped her hand without turning to look at her.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered.

Saki pulled herself into his hammock and he shifted so they would not spill out—it was rare that the two of them even did this. Saki slid her wing beneath his neck and rested her head on his shoulder as he encircled her with his wings.

“You’re the _only_ one who can do this,” she told him gently.

“Saki...”

“I don’t mean that in a sense that you are our last resort,” she clarified, “I mean that you are the only choice for such a role.”

“How can I defy the man who practically raised me?”

“Given what’s gone on...how can you not?”

Teba pressed his beak to Saki’s forehead.

“We were never going to put Kass in that position, were we?” he asked.

“No.”

“Which is why you and Amali and Harth planned everything behind my back.”

“It’s time for a change.”

“I don’t enjoy being manoeuvred,” Teba grumbled.

“Don’t you?” asked Saki, trailing her hand down his snow-white feathers.

He closed his eyes with a surprised intake of breath as her hand slid beneath his clothes.

“Are you just teasing?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered as she drew her beak through the feathers on his neck.

“I can’t recall the last time we did this,” he gasped.

“Lately,” she told him as he squirmed beneath her touch, “I think I’ve come to see you in a new light.”

He he reached up with both hands and pulled her in to draw his beak across hers. The pulled at each other’s clothes with an enthusiasm Saki had never before known with Teba. As their bodies united, they hushed themselves so as not to outdo Laissa and Mazli’s wedding-night euphoria.

“We may not have chosen each other,” said Teba afterwards as he lay wrapped in Saki’s wings, the cool breeze pleasantly ruffling their feathers, “but I think the Goddess may have made us for one another.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Saki, revelling in the warmth of Teba being so near, “or perhaps we’ve grown to be for one another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a long time ago I said I try to stay in my lane and write non-sexy gen, but lately it seems I’ve been veering off onto the unpaved shoulder...(and yes, Saki is the big spoon; Teba needs that right now.)
> 
> Also, I think Teba is probably kind of a prude and every time I edited this and he felt it was “wildly inappropriate” to speculate on Mazli and Laissa’s love life (even though Harth and Saki are clearly happy for them) it just seemed so funny to me so I kept it.


	15. The Limits of Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A patrol yields some clue about the success of Link's fight.

The sky was dark as Gesane’s watch neared its end. The few clouds crossed the starry sky were lit with the silver light of the moon as he plodded through the routine of patrolling the bridge which had grown agonizing in its monotony. It had been two nights since Medoh’s blast and the beast had gone quiet and dark. Since then, Gesane had not seen the luminescent figure that sometimes walked along Medoh’s wings, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the world below. Gesane found that he had grown to miss these sightings as he paced the bridge in loneliness and heartbreak. 

He might later reflect that it was these things which weighed on his mind that distracted him from the one-eared blue bokoblin that followed him up the bridge and tackled him to the ground. 

As the bokoblin ran past him up the bridge to the stack, Gesane’s first instinct was still to take flight after it. He quashed the urge and pushed himself up from the gently swaying boards to chase it on foot, furious and humiliated that he had been so negligent.

The bokoblin turned and hurled a rock at Gesane, squealing its ire as Gesane easily avoided the projectile. Gesane lowered his spear, but as the bokoblin launched itself at him, he only managed to impale its shoulder. It squalled in pain as Gesane struggled to withdraw the weapon which was buried up to the feathers in the bokoblin’s flesh. Yanking at the spear in Gesane’s grip, it leapt upon him, screaming and clawing ferally.

Gesane lost hold of the spear and screeched as the pointed teeth sank into his thigh. Hopes of skewering the creature abandoned, Gesane struggled to just get away, flapping hopelessly and trying to claw the bokoblin with his talons as he fell maladroitly backwards. It released him and shrieked as Gesane’s talons dug into the soft flesh of its belly. Wasting no time, Gesane rolled to his feet, whipped the bow from his back and released two arrows at close range. 

Finally, spear lodged in its shoulder, arrows in its chest, the bokoblin writhed on the ground. Gesane stepped forward and yanked the spear roughly from its shoulder before ending its misery. He glanced down to where pain radiated through his thigh and grew a little dizzy at the sight of his own blood blossoming between his feathers. As darkness grew at the edge of his vision he found himself involuntarily sitting in the damp grass.

“Damn it,” he cursed as he pressed his shaking wing over the wound, realizing what he would likely be in for.

“Gesane!” came a call from above.

Gesane glanced up and nearly swore again as Mazli set down in front of him. The other guard stared at the bokoblin carcass and drew his bow.

“It’s dead, Mazli,” he managed through his clenched beak.

“And you don’t think that’s strange because...?” asked Mazli, prodding the unmoving body with the tip of his bow.

“Preoccupied with this,” Gesane grunted, glancing down at his leg, “but you’re right. Why hasn’t it disappeared?”

“You know what,” said Mazli affably, putting a wing around Gesane and gripping his hand, “we’ll let Teba worry about it. Ready?”

Gesane bit back his protest as Mazli hauled him back to his feet. He staggered and clutched Mazli’s shoulder hard as they crossed the bridge back toward the village. As the adrenaline of conflict left him, the pain in his leg grew worse.

“We can’t just leave; there could be more,” Gesane hissed.

“And we’ll deal with that if they follow us,” Mazli assured him.

“Well, they’ll have a nice trail to follow at least ” Gesane panted, glancing down at the stain that had bled through his feathers into his leg-wrap.

“All the more reason to get back to the village.”

“No...we have to stop.”

“We need to keep going,” Mazli insisted.

“I’m too light-headed...there’s a lot of blood.”

Gesane stumbled as they reached the salmon pond and Mazli caught him and helped him rest against a spruce tree. Mazli pressed on the wound and Gesane bit back his screech, pulling away until he was huddled back against the sappy bark.

“Hey,” said Mazli shakily, “just sit still, Teba’s going to be down for our reports soon.”

“Mazli, are you scared?” Gesane asked him incredulously.

“This is a tense situation!”

“It’s fine.”

“There’s a lot more blood than I thought,” Mazli admitted.

“It’s alright,” Gesane told him, taking over where Mazli held the wound, “go get Teba.”

Mazli looked momentarily conflicted.

“Go,” Gesane insisted.

“Don’t faint.”

“I can’t promise that. Be quick.”

Gesane did his very best to keep his eyes open, but his vision swam as his wing grew sticky with blood. 

He must not have done too well in his fight, because the next thing he knew he was screeching at the pain which shot through his leg while Guy held him down.

“You’re alright,” Guy told him, but the tremor in his hand as he smoothed the feathers on Gesane’s forehead made him worry that perhaps he wasn’t.

“Gesane, don’t move,” Saki told him firmly, “just lie still.”

Saki was binding the wound over that hated powder she used to stop bleeding. Gesane could hear Teba somewhere in the distance and Harth shouting back a reply. He turned his head to see Mazli standing behind Guy, covering his beak.

“Is Mazli alright?” Gesane slurred, his voice nearly unrecognizable.

“I think you scared him,” said Guy.

For some reason that made Gesane want to laugh, though he couldn’t summon the energy for more than a huff.

“I got bit...that one-eared bastard...oh fuck...” he trailed off as Saki pressed her hand under his wing to feel his lifebeat. 

“Don’t worry, Harth says the worst part is the nightmares.”

“Guy, don’t make this worse,” scolded Saki.

“It’s alright,” said Gesane in an effort to keep things light, “I’ve been wanting a few days away.”

Teba landed nearby and Mazli straightened, ready for his orders, though he still looked quite shaken.

“Skovo and Raza have positioned themselves on the bridge,” relayed Teba, “Harth and Laissa are performing a flyover. The bokoblin is undeniably dead. Whatever curse it is that turns them to smoke seems to be...gone.”

“This particular bokoblin is known to us,” said Mazli vehemently, “a more vicious bastard never lived.”

“We must ensure that we are safe from a second attack. Guy—” said Teba with the air of command.

“Teba, I’m staying with Gesane,” Guy balked.

“I need someone who is still fresh to go down to the stable in case there is a second attack,” said Teba.

“Go,” Gesane insisted, “I’m fine.”

“Guy, I’ll stay,” Mazli said when Guy hesitated.

Gesane couldn’t suppress his groan as Mazli came to stand behind Guy. Guy glanced back at Mazli, perhaps seeing Gesane’s expression and set his beak.

“I’ll come to your roost as soon as I’m done,” Guy promised, gripping his wing.

Gesane politely didn’t acknowledge aloud that Guy staying in his roost had very little to do with him and a great deal more to do with how angry Ce had been with him for not telling her where he was for the greater part of a year. Gesane held onto Guy for as long as he could before Mazli took his place. 

Gesane closed his eyes in despair. There was only one person he wanted beside him right now, and Gesane sorely wished he could ask Teba to summon her.

As Guy and Teba took off, Saki held Gesane’s face an looked carefully at both of his eyes.

“Do you feel ready to return home?” she asked him.

Gesane nodded.

“Alright,” Saki agreed, “but you’ve lost a lot of blood, so if you feel faint you need to say something.”

When Saki and Mazli took his wings over their shoulders and pulled him to his feet, he couldn’t decide whether he was about to pass out again or wretch. He clutched desperately at their shoulders, a terrible sound escaping him.

“Take a deep breath,” Saki reminded him, “we’ll go slowly.”

“I can’t do this,” Gesane winced, unable to extend his injured leg.

“So you’re saying you want me to carry you?” Mazli asked lightly.

“I might rather die.”

“Well, I think your options are pretty clear.”

By the time Gesane returned to his roost and settled into his hammock, his leg throbbed so badly that he almost regretted not taking Mazli up on his offer. Almost.

“Gesane, I apologize, I need to return to Tulin and Molli,” Saki excused herself.

“I’ll come for you if there are any problems,” Mazli told her.

“When will I know if this bokoblin has made me ill?” Gesane asked.

“Likely by the end of tomorrow,” said Saki.

Gesane pressed his head back into the hammock and squeezed his eyes shut in irritation.

“You won’t be left alone,” Saki promised, “I’m sorry, I must go now.”

Gesane inhaled deeply trying to ignore the stinging throb of his wound. Mazli paced around the tiny roost before he sat down at the back.

“Gesane...”

“I have a strong preference for quiet right now, Mazli,” he said through his clenched beak.

“I’m sorry for what’s...come between us. I was wrong about you and Ariane.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Alright fine, then just listen,” Mazli huffed angrily, “I thought we were friends, though it’s clear you didn’t think so...and you’ve been avoiding me and I understand.”

“I hope my death comes sooner rather than later,” Gesane said uncharitably.

“I was scared for you!” hissed Mazli, “just...I know you want me to leave and avoid crossing your path, but I’m not going to do that!”

Gesane couldn’t summon the effort to disentangle Mazli’s rambling apology. He reached his wing over the edge of the hammock and felt Mazli take his hand.

“I’ll forgive you if you promise not to say another word,” said Gesane.

To his credit, Mazli managed to keep quiet the rest of the night.

oOo

Harth accompanied Teba to Kaneli’s roost early the morning after the bokoblin had left its body behind on the stack. Though they had two days before they planned to oust Kaneli, Harth was growing nervous about the possibility of being discovered. While Teba gave his report without a hint of hesitation that might betray their plans, Harth fretted that Kaneli might somehow see through them as they stood before him.

Kass, Saki and Amali had been delicately trying to find where support for Teba might lie. They seemed quite optimistic about what they had found, though they had to be careful about how the obtained their information so that they would not give up their element of surprise. Given recent events, they had decided that springing the ousting upon Kaneli would mean that he did not have time to react or attempt to secure power. Maintaining the role against popular support was not the usual way of things, but Kaneli had long ago departed from the usual way of things, and they opted for caution.

“Foes who resurrect during the blood moon became endemic after the Calamity,” said Kaneli pulling a tattered book from his shelf and opening it on the side-table, “there has been speculation that this is a result of the malice that overtook the land.”

“Link set out to fight the malice at Hyrule Castle several days ago. Kass believes that Medoh’s attack was in support of his efforts,” Teba said.

“If that’s the case, I would guess that he’s succeeded,” said Kaneli.

Teba nodded, his expression still grim and focused, though Harth could see that the sleepless night they had spent patrolling was taking its toll on him.

“Teba,” clarified Kaneli, “this should be welcome news for you and your warriors. Our borders can be more easily secured when we no longer have to worry about our foes returning with increasing force each blood moon.”

“We haven’t yet had a blood moon to put this to the test,” Teba pointed out cautiously, “but I am inclined to agree that we may find our lands safer.”

Kaneli rested his hand on the book and stared at the two of them. Harth fidgeted uncomfortably when he saw there was something akin to pride in the old Rito’s eyes as he smiled to himself. When the warmth returned to Kaneli’s disposition, Harth had a more difficult time convincing himself that what they were doing was right.

“You two had best find your hammocks,” said Kaneli avuncularly.

“Yes elder,” Harth responded mechanically, and he heard Teba mutter the same.

As they headed down the boardwalk, the morning air still crisp and cool as the sun crested the horizon, Harth saw that Teba looked as conflicted as he felt. This close to the elder’s roost, Harth dared not say anything of comfort.

“I should see if Gesane is in need of anything,” Teba said.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Harth, if you need to rest...”

“I haven’t yet calmed down from last night’s events,” Harth admitted as they followed the boardwalk down to the lower levels.

“You didn’t even find anything on patrol,” remarked Teba in disbelief.

“That hardly matters. I haven’t had to fly a night patrol in years.”

As they approached Gesane’s roost Harth saw that the curtains had been drawn. With a glance back at Teba, he carefully pulled aside the curtain to show his face in the roost. Guy sat at the back of the roost fletching arrows. He raised his attention to Harth as the morning light sliced into the room. Gesane shifted uncomfortably in his hammock and covered his eyes with his wing.

“Close the curtain,” Gesane moaned as Guy stood and gestured for them to come in.

“The light’s been bothering him,” Guy told them softly, “but I’ve checked his bandages and the wound doesn’t appear to be festering.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Gesane complained.

Teba motioned to Guy and the two slipped out to the boardwalk to speak. Harth moved to Gesane’s side rested a hand on his wing.

“You left quite a trail across the bridges,” Harth remarked softly.

“Sorry about the mess” Gesane deadpanned, his eyes still clenched shut against the dim light in the roost.

“You’re lucky to be alive, friend.”

“Strange that you should call me that.”

“I mean it this time.”

The two remained in amicable silence for a moment.

“I’m afraid of this thing,” Gesane admitted.

Gesane flinched a little as Harth placed a hand on his face, pressing gently beneath the feathers.

“You don’t have a fever,” he told him.

“My body aches terribly and I’ve never felt such a pain in my head.”

Harth withdrew his hand so as not to cause Gesane further discomfort. He had felt that way as well before the illness had set in.

“Gesane, if you have need of me, I will be here.”

“Just tell me...is it very bad?”

“It’s not great,” admitted Harth, “it’s easier when you aren’t alone.”

Gesane’s exhale caught in his throat in distress and Harth gently took his wing.

“I had a strange conversation with Kass yesterday at my post,” said Gesane, “is Teba about to do something rash?”

“Why?”

“Because Kass seemed to think it would be very important that I was present to show my support of him.”

“Yeah...but no one would hold it against you if you can’t make it now.”

“Whatever it is, Teba has my loyalty.”

“You should rest,” Harth evaded, as Guy returned to the roost, “this will likely grow worse before you begin to feel better.”

As Harth turned to leave, he caught Guy by the upper wing.

“Don’t leave him alone,” Harth quietly warned him, “I can be here if you need me.”

“I think we have this in hand,” Guy told him standoffishly.

Harth nodded sharply and met Teba on the boardwalk. Teba made a small gesture with his head and Harth followed him down to a tiny landing. The two flew out over the lake to a high stack that was slightly hollowed at the top.

“You alright?” asked Harth, landing on a lip of rock as Teba paced anxiously in front of the tiny statues.

“I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

“Teba...someone must.”

“Who will take over as First Warrior?”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that because that’s up to the warriors to decide.”

“There are four of you.”

“Thank you, I can count,” said Harth darkly, “what part of this has you worried?”

“What if I fail at this? I might be exiled.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Even worse...I may succeed!”

“Teba, stop,” said Harth, gripping his shoulders, “you will succeed; you have the favour of the village...and your friends will be by your side.”

“What if the things we intend to abolish are the only things keeping us from dying out?” Teba asked desperately, “what if Kaneli’s right?”

“He’s not. He can’t be.”

“Why is it just our generation who has had such trouble reproducing?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps because we never recovered from the famine years of our youth, or maybe we’re too closely related, or, I would hazard, it was all the pressure Kaneli put on us,” Harth guessed, “but all of that is outside of your control.”

Teba let out a frustrated huff and shook his head. Harth squeezed his shoulders a little more firmly.

“What if I become responsible for the Rito dying out?” Teba finally managed, “what if it’s my fault that our children see the end of our people?”

“If the Rito die out,” said Harth, “it would never have been anyone’s fault. That we’ve managed this long is a testament to our stubbornness as a species...all we can do now is ensure that our children have a good future, with or without the rest of the tribe.”

“Goddess, Harth,” remarked Teba, “when did you become so wise?”

“Nothing shapes wisdom like the wounds of experience,” said Harth darkly, “it’s the bitterest way by which we learn.”

“This doesn’t sound like you.”

“Something my father said.”

“Avill would be proud of who you’ve become,” Teba told him seriously.

“He never really held back on saying he was proud,” Harth said, trying to shrug off Teba’s compliment despite the warmth it brought to his chest.

“We ought to return home,” said Teba, glancing down at the village, “Saki told me that there are still preparations that must be made.”

oOo

“Harth. Harth!”

The sky was dark, save for the light from the last sliver of the waning moon when Harth awoke to Verla prodding the bottom of his hammock.

“’m awake,” Harth rasped, glancing down to where Molli had once again climbed up onto his breast while he slept.

“Saki sent me,” said Verla, “she needs you to come down to Gesane’s roost.”

“Alright. Tell her I’ll be a moment.”

Harth carefully gathered his sleeping daughter in his wing as he lit from his hammock. Glancing over to Saki and Teba’s roost, he saw the lanterns were lit and Teba was quietly pushing aside a shelf and stacking blankets on top. Harth took the stairs up to his friends’ roost, Molli barely stirring in her sleep.

“Teba,” he whispered, “can you take her?”

Teba nodded and pointed to the guest hammock which he had already set up. Harth gently laid Molli down and covered her with a blanket. He wondered if she thought of this roost as home nearly as much as their own for all the time she stayed here.

“Thank you,” Harth whispered as set out.

He ran to the edge of Revali’s Landing and leapt into the wind. He landed a moment later on the small landing near Gesane’s roost. The curtains were still drawn but he could hear voices inside. Harth pulled back the curtain and stood for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Guy sat against the back of the roost, holding Gesane firmly against his body while he struggled and wept. 

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” Guy insisted while he restrained Gesane’s wings.

Saki tried her best to cool Gesane’s brow and beak with a damp cloth, but Gesane resisted all intervention. Harth stepped forward, intending to offer his assistance when her felt the hollow shaft of a feather scrape underfoot. He glanced down to see that there were more than a few russet feathers scattered across the floorboards.

“Saki,” he said.

“Oh, Harth,” she sighed shakily as she stood.

He recognized look of dread on her face, having been on the cause of it a fair few times himself. Saki grasped him by the upper wing and walked him to the other side of the tiny roost. He glanced back at Gesane as he freed a wing—conspicuously missing patches of feathers—and Guy gently recaptured his hand.

“This looks pretty serious,” Harth whispered.

“You need to go get Ariane,” Saki told him, “he’s been tearing out his feathers, pleading for her.”

“Teba said she’s not to come into the village,” protested Harth.

“Teba doesn’t need this to weigh on him right now,” Saki told him, “Skovo and Raza won’t question you.”

“Right,” Harth agreed.

His heart ached a little as he glanced back at Guy, his face lined with exhaustion and his wings tight around his friend as he whispered platitudes to calm him. Gesane was the last person who deserved this suffering right now, Harth thought as he pushed aside the curtain and set out for the landing. As he drifted down toward the stable, Harth sorely hoped that Kaneli had retired for the evening; the last thing he wanted was to have to explain why he was interfering in something Gesane had claimed was over.

Harth landed so near the stable that the horses spooked. He stepped back, as wary of the beasts as they were of him.

“Should we prepare for an attack?” called Galli.

“No,” said Harth as he approached the counter, “I urgently need to speak with Ariane.”

“Have you also come along to break the poor girl’s heart?” he asked protectively.

“No!” snapped Harth, offended by the implication, “our business is none of your concern.”

Galli grumbled and pointed to where she had collapsed on her stomach atop her blankets, still dressed. One leg hung over the edge of the bed and she had slung one arm over her pillow beside her. It was as though she grown used to having someone beside her, Harth realized. He approached the bed and cleared his throat. Ariane didn’t stir from her slumber, no doubt exhausted from her chores and the weight of heartbreak.

“Ariane,” he finally said, tapping her reluctantly on the shoulder.

“Go ‘way.”

“Ariane, you need to wake up. Gesane needs you right now.”

“For what?” she groaned, as she shifted away from Harth groggily.

“He’s not well. He was bitten by a bokoblin.”

Ariane rolled onto her back and pushed herself into a sitting position. She massaged her forehead with one hand as she drew in a breath to clear away the sleep. Harth wondered idly if Hylians always slept so deeply.

“Let’s go,” Harth pressed, “you need to come to the village with me.”

“Alright,” she agreed, clumsily pulling on her boots and a dyed wool travelling cloak.

Harth lead the way toward the village as Ariane stumbled along behind him. The cold night air seemed to snap her into wakefulness as they made for the bridge.

“I’ve been told I’m not allowed entrance to the village,” Ariane said as they approached the bridge, “by Teba’s order.”

“He wanted to keep you safe,” said Harth, “but I’ll stay nearby as long as you’re in the village to ensure that you remain so.”

“You said Gesane was bitten by a bokoblin? Was this last night?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I only finding out now?” she asked as Skovo stopped ahead of them.

“Teba said she’s not allowed in, Harth,” interrupted the guard.

“I am extremely short on patience right now, Skovo,” Harth said, trying to recall some of his short-temperedness.

“C’mon...” sighed Skovo.

“Step aside or you can explain your injuries to Teba when he comes for your report.”

Skovo weighed this for a moment before he jerkily withdrew his spear and let them pass with an open wing. As they reached the next bridge Ariane glanced back to check that Skovo was no longer in hearing range.

“I’d always heard you were a real asshole, though I never thought I’d have the pleasure of actually seeing it,” commented Ariane.

“I used to be,” Harth acknowledged uncomfortably “it why it still works.”

“So Gesane’s ill,” she said, “what am I to do about it?”

“He’s worried. He needs to know you’re still safe,” Harth told her, “but you should be forewarned—he’s in poor shape.”

They passed by Raza with no resistance and Harth was grateful when they encountered no one on the boardwalk. The roost was much quieter on this approach and Harth was filled with a momentary fear as he drew aside the curtain.

“Oh Goddess,” whispered Ariane as she saw the feathers on the ground.

Guy still held Gesane at the back of the roost, but the struggling had ceased. Gesane’s head rested back on Guy’s shoulder and his breathing had grown even, if a bit shallow. For the performance of nonchalance Ariane had put on as Harth had walked her across the stacks, seeing Gesane in such a fragile state seemed to bring her nearly to tears. She held her hand near his face, not quite touching him in fear that she might wake him.

“Should we move him?” Harth whispered to Saki, concerned by Guy’s clear exhaustion.

“I don’t think so; this is the first time he’s slept since I arrived,” she responded.

Saki looked nearly as tired as Guy. Harth rested his wing on her shoulder.

“Saki, it’s well into the night,” he said, “you should go home or Teba won’t sleep.”

Saki glanced at the door, clearly eager to leave.

“I’ll stay,” Harth offered.

“Are you sure?” she asked skeptically.

He nodded.

“We both know Teba has a lot on his mind,” said Harth, “we can’t let anything get in the way of...”

Saki nodded, but hesitated in the door.

“If you need me...”

“We’ll send someone.”

oOo

Gesane had slept in fits throughout the night, fearing that the darkness would never end. His leg was painful and he couldn’t find a comfortable place to sleep. Ariane had tried to lie on the floor with him, holding him against the length of her body but he couldn’t lie still. He was too dizzy to stay in his hammock and there he dreamt he had somehow stepped from his roost and was falling into the lake. It felt shameful to admit that he was most at ease when Guy held him at the back of the roost—which he had done without complaint for hours. Through the night, his friends had been endlessly patient as he panicked and cried over the surreal nightmares the fever brought on.

As the roost grew brighter with the light that filtered through the drawn curtains, Gesane found he missed the dark he had so hated only hours ago. As the sun rose and his fever grew less severe, he could recall how pathetic he’d been the night before. He knew that Guy reserved no ill judgment for him, and Harth assured him that he had been equally miserable during his bout, but things with Ariane were less clear—this hardly seemed an appropriate thing for a woman he was no longer courting to do for him.

“Guy, you should go to sleep,” Harth insisted from where he slumped against the railing at the back of the roost.

Gesane lay shivering on the floor, his head in Ariane’s lap. Guy had stayed by his side, fearful that he might once more tear at his feathers as he had the night before. He sat beside Ariane, and fixed Gesane’s blankets as he stirred.

“I’m fine,” Guy insisted.

“Harth’s right,” Gesane said, pulling his blanket more tightly around him, “Ariane needs guards who are alert.”

“I don’t need guards at all,” she disputed obstinately.

Ariane gently ran her fingers in trails through his feathers and he wanted to weep at her touch. He realized he had begun to as she wiped at a tear that had rolled onto his beak with her fingertip. That only made it worse.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, just as she had when he wept in the night.

Gesane could feel Guy’s wing resting on him through the blanket as Ariane continued to smooth back his feathers.

“Harth,” said Guy, his voice marred with such concern that Gesane pulled his blanket up over his beak so they wouldn’t see how wretched he was, “what is it you’re planning and why must Gesane be there?” 

Harth stood and checked the boardwalk before he sat down very close to them and spoke in a low voice.

“Would you support an ousting?”

“Of Kaneli?” Guy whispered.

“Yes,” Gesane sobbed from behind the cover of his blanket and he felt Harth squeeze shoulder.

“What’s an ousting?” Ariane whispered.

“It’s how we select a new elder,” Harth said, “and get rid of the old.”

“And Teba means to oust Kaneli?” Guy asked almost inaudibly.

“Teba’s too young,” said Gesane as he regained control of himself.

“Youth is no obstacle to wisdom where experience is concerned,” said Harth.

“You sound like Kass,” Guy scoffed.

“Well, I got it from Kass.”

“I’m in,” said Guy, “Kaneli’s overstepped.”

“Me too,” agreed Gesane as he pulled the blanket back down.

“Kass thinks that...it would be powerful if Gesane could endorse Teba,” Harth told them.

“I’ll do it.”

“Gesane, this is not going to feel any better tomorrow,” Harth sighed.

“I’ll go anyway.”

“We’ll see how you feel,” Guy told him seriously.

“Goddess...why’s it so hot in here?” Gesane asked as he tried to push aside his cover.

Guy took the blanket from him and Ariane rested his head on a cushion so she could reach the bowl and cloth she had been using to cool him. Gesane’s leg muscles cramped and he was so nearly sick with the pain it took him a moment to realize that Harth was holding him and he had grasped Harth’s wing in an iron grip.

“Breathe,” Harth said as Gesane leaned back against him, too weak to do otherwise, “you’re going to get through this.”

Had his wings not been clipped, Gesane doubted very much that he would have been in the position to be bitten. He grit his beak and tried not to cry over the painful spasms as Harth held him steady. As far as he was concerned, Kaneli had every ounce of his current misery for which to answer.

“I’m coming out to endorse Teba,” Gesane vowed as he grit his beak, furious tears impossibly still escaping his eyes, “I want to see Kaneli out if it kills me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a history of not being happy with my second-to-last chapters of anything. This one I'm pretty good with. Sunday looks good for the finale, I just want it to sit with some of the edits I've made so I can decide if it's really ready.
> 
> Harth’s philosophical stance on wisdom (yeah, there's something I never thought I'd type) is based on a quote attributed to Confucius: “By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.”


	16. For the Ages to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day comes when the future of Rito Village must be decided.

It was mid-morning, the sky was crystal clear and the wind blew the earliest hint of sweet autumnal decay through the rafters. Teba stood alone in his roost, preparing himself for what he was about to do. Saki had already taken Tulin and Molli to go play with Kass and Amali’s children at the salmon pond so she, Kass and Amali could gather the rest of the Rito for a meeting at the foot of the village. Teba tightened the buckle on his leather cuirass and took a deep breath. It was time.

As Teba stepped out onto the boardwalk he glanced down toward the empty roosts in his sight. That this responsibility weighed upon his conscience was a good thing, Kass had assured him, it would keep him honest. Teba found himself standing in Kaneli’s doorway without ever having made the decision to walk there.

Inside, the Rito who had taught him everything he knew about being a warrior and a leader sat recording events in his journal. He looked up to see Teba standing uncomfortably in the door frame. When he met his mentor’s gaze Teba realized that Kaneli _knew_.

“You needn’t have made such a fuss on my account,” said Kaneli as he closed his journal and put away his stylus, “I would have come the moment you summoned me.”

“You’ve been acting in defiance of our traditions,” said Teba, “interfering in matters where you have no right.”

Kaneli rose and limped to face Teba. When he spoke, his voice held neither malice nor contempt.

“Everything I have done has been at great personal cost. If this goes as you plan then you, too, may find that the hopes you have for the future of this village do not unfold as you expect.”

Kaneli gestured that Teba lead the way down the the foot of the village. As he wound his way down the boardwalk and past the empty roosts, he felt the terrible chill of it all wash over him. He was doing this for Tulin, he reminded himself, and for the other children and the Rito who were not yet entangled against their will in this mess of pressured marriages and egg-laying. He was doing this so that the warriors might once more welcome women into their ranks. He was doing this so no one might again have their wings clipped or be sentenced to extensive exile.

When Teba and Kaneli arrived at the foot of the village the scene looked very much as it had the night of Gesane’s trial. The Rito had congregated along the ledges of the pillar where the path dipped to meet the bridge. Teba stared out at the uncharacteristically silent crowd and felt himself waver. As he breathed in the crisp air to steady himself, the distant sound of children giggling and shrieking as they played in the pond on the next stack strengthened his resolve.

“They’re waiting on you,” Kaneli said softly.

Teba cleared his throat, trying to access that voice that called orders to warriors over the rushing winds rather than the one that quivered in fear inside of him now. He looked through the crowd to find Saki, her gaze strong and supportive as she nodded to him in encouragement.

“I have summoned you all to hear my claim—I move to oust Kaneli as Village Elder that I may serve in his stead.”

The crowd did not react with more than a ripple of mutters. They had been primed to expect this, he realized.

“If designated, I propose to enact the following changes: an end to mandatory marriages and an end to the restrictions on non-productive marriages, a reduction of restrictions on travel outside of the village, the reinstatement of women to the ranks of the warriors, and the abolishment of terms of exile lasting more than two years and other forms of cruel punishment.”

Teba had made his position clear. Now, all that was left was to wait for the crowd to come to their decision.

“Sounds like you want us to die out!” Huck shouted.

“Our youth will fly off and leave us to rot here alone!” Misa cried.

As the crowd grumbled in discussion of Teba’s proposals, Laissa leapt from her perch on the ledge to the path. Her falcon bow on her back as though she had come from guard duty to be here and Teba had never seen such seriousness on her face. She turned to address the crowd.

“I have lived my life without hope that I might take up the warrior’s bow as my mother did, but Teba has granted me service in the guards. He is a warrior of honesty and honour, and I have no doubt that he would lead our tribe with the same integrity,” she turned to face him as she spoke, “I endorse you in this.”

As Laissa returned to the crowd, some cheered her declaration, while others hissed. Nekk stepped down to face the assembled.

“Teba says kind words, but he offers no plan of how we might rebuild our population. We all yearn for these ideals of freedom, but at what cost? We are dying out and no hand-holding with Hylians or allowances for travel will change this...I would guess, these measures might serve to decrease our population.”

“You don’t even have kids!” Mazli shouted at Nekk, “so quit telling everyone else they have to!”

“Mazli, you’re far too young to remember the days when we were not so few,” Nekk responded in kind, “but if you wish to be the last among us, by all means! I won’t be left to worry about it!

Nekk’s harangue received considerably less applause as he returned to the ledge, but Teba could see that there were those among them who agreed with Nekk. Teba had known this was a likelihood, yet it chilled him all the same.

“Teba, you have my endorsement!” Mazli hollered over the rumblings of crowd.

“Don’t forget,” Nekk called, “for all his bluster about wishing to end cruel punishments, it was Teba who clipped Gesane’s wings!”

There was another ripple of discussion through the crowd—at least Teba had been expecting this particular attack.

A figure wrapped in a teal and blue patterned blanket rose unsteadily from where he sat off to the edge of the crowd. Gesane could barely stand without Guy and Ariane supporting him on either side. Teba watched as Harth caught Ariane by the arm to keep her back and safe with him while Gesane and Guy advanced. Guy kept his wings around Gesane’s shaking form as he made his way to face the crowd.

“When last I stood before you,” Gesane said, “I confessed to a love that has been treated as a grotesque misdeed. I was shamed and humiliated— _ah_.” 

Gesane grit his beak and gripped Guy’s wing as Guy kept him upright. Teba noticed as Harth put a wing on Ariane’s shoulder—an unnecessary warning not to spoil Gesane’s endorsement.

“You don’t have to do this,” Teba heard Guy whisper to him, the wing on Gesane’s back moving gently to comfort him.

“Teba has always protected those in his charge,” Gesane panted through his clenched beak as he straightened, “and he will protect our village and serve as elder with honour,” Gesane looked back over his shoulder, his eyes glassy with fever, “you have my endorsement.”

“Let’s go sit down,” Guy quietly urged as Gesane bent forward again and wrapped himself in his wings.

The crowd was muttering again but Teba could only watch as Ariane stepped forward to try to comfort Gesane as he and Guy returned to the edge of the crowd. For a moment, Harth caught his eye and gave him and encouraging nod.

“Teba’s endorsements are all from warriors,” complained Bedoli.

“I am no warrior,” said Kass as he stepped forward, “and I don’t know what weight my voice carries.

Teba was more moved by Kass coming out in his favour than he would ever admit. Whatever Kass seemed to think of his own reputation, Teba knew that the village regarded him as someone of integrity.

“There have been a great many things upon which we’ve disagreed, but Teba has always conducted himself by the code of honour to which he adheres,” Kass said as he turned to speak to Teba, a small smile crossing his face, “in this, I endorse you fully.”

When no new objections were raised, Kass turned to the crowd.

“Those who declare for Kaneli, please raise your right wing,” Kass instructed as he counted the raised wings, “and those for Teba.”

The moment should have been one of simple victory or defeat, but in those raised wings Teba watched as families were split in animosity over the future, as the unity that the Rito had long known under Kaneli turned his supporters to bitterness. When Kass announced the result, cheers went up, but others stalked away back to the village. Teba had won, but he had inherited a fractured village. 

“...and you thought it couldn’t get any worse...” he heard Huck muttering to Nekk as they stalked past.

“You don’t look very pleased,” Kaneli remarked as the villagers slowly dispersed.

“I’m not,” said Teba, “I’m sorry that it had to come to this.”

“Don’t be,” Kaneli told him, resting a broad wing on his shoulder, “you did exactly as I taught you...my protégé.”

Teba stared after Kaneli as he limped to the edge of the stack to catch the winds over Lake Totori back to his roost. That Kaneli had seemingly forgiven him made him feel more empty than if he had been angry. He already feared this commitment, of which no one was likely to relieve him. 

Teba felt wings wrap around him from behind as he stared out into the clear blue where Kaneli had swooped away. He turned to meet Saki’s bright eyes and she brushed her beak against his. He saw Amali and Kass standing behind her.

“I told you,” Saki said.

“I think this may have been the easy part,” he sighed.

Saki stepped back and Amali reached out to grip Teba’s wing in congratulations.

“Thank you,” Amali said as she let him go.

“In light of the idiotic ploy that put me into this role,” said Teba darkly as he faced Kass, “I wish to extend some of this suffering unto you.”

“I’ve already said I will be at your disposal.”

“There is one position which the elder appoints—Kass, I wish for you to take over as Village Chronicler.”

“What about Laissa?” asked Kass in surprise.

“I believe she will be occupied with her trials, and the warriors must now select a new First Warrior. I imagine she has as good a chance as any of them.”

“Why are you always so determined to make me suffer?” sighed Kass as Teba rested a wing on his shoulder.

“Do you accept?”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” said Kass as he shook his head and gave in.

The mantle already weighing heavy upon him, Teba left the three to go gather the children while he went to try and repair one more injustice. When he returned to the village and pulled aside the curtain to Gesane’s roost, he was not surprised to find Harth inside; he, too, had a history of misdeeds for which to atone. 

Gesane shifted uncomfortably in his hammock as Ariane drew a damp cloth over his face.

“Who’s there?” he asked, not opening his eyes.

“It’s just Teba,” Ariane told him softly.

“Teba,”Gesane whispered, holding out a damaged wing.

Teba took his hand as he came to stand next to Gesane. His skin beneath his feathers radiated heat, even as he shivered and twitched uncomfortably. Teba suspected Gesane’s presence at the ousting had done him far more favours than it had the feverish warrior.

“I’m grateful that you declared for me,” Teba told him.

“D’you win?” Gesane slurred.

“I did,” said Teba, gently taking Gesane’s other wing as he reached out to him, “when you’re well, I don’t want you to fear punishment if you wish to live your life with Ariane...and I profoundly do not care where you sleep.”

Gesane’s small huff of a laugh was cut short as he gripped Teba’s wings hard against the muscle spasm which assailed him.

“Just take a deep breath,” Teba reminded him as Ariane returned to his side.

As Gesane calmed, Teba took his wings back from the warrior and turned to Ariane.

“I mean what I said,” Teba told her, “not everyone may welcome you here, but if you wish to stay, you may. If you are threatened in any way, I will deal with the offender personally.”

“I appreciate it,” she said sincerely.

As Teba turned to leave, Guy reached out to grip his wing in a warrior’s exchange.

“I’m glad it was you,” said Guy, “you have my trust.”

Teba nodded to Guy in gratitude, lost though he now felt. As he pushed aside the curtain, Harth followed him out onto the boardwalk.

“Congratulations, Elder,” he said with a crooked smile.

“Perhaps we could refrain from using titles?” Teba said uncomfortably.

“I think it might be disrespectful, don’t you, Elder?”

“Stop.”

Harth’s expression grew serious and he reached out to Teba and wrapped him in his wings. Teba reluctantly returned the unexpected embrace and rested his beak on Harth’s shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this,” Harth said quietly, “I know you never wanted any of this, but you will always have my loyalty and whatever else is in my power to give.”

Teba held Harth a little tighter, trying to fight the desolation that overcame him as he realized that no matter the support his friends offered, he would always be alone in this.

oOo

Gesane heard the flapping of the breeze against the curtains in his roost before he became aware that he had been asleep on the floor, his feathers bent at strange angles against the rug beneath him. He thought he must still be trapped in his feverish dreams, because he felt a featherless arm wound around his wing. He didn’t want to open his eyes in case this all went away. 

Steeling himself for disappointment, he opened his eyes and saw a dark, blue-tipped wing hanging over the edge of his hammock. _Harth_ , he realized, recalling with some embarrassment that he had held Gesane through much of the night as he dreamt over and over that he was falling and couldn’t catch himself.

“Ariane,” he whispered.

“Hey,” she breathed as she stirred sleepily, “are you feeling more yourself?” 

She propped herself on her elbow and pushed her fingers under the feathers on his unclothed chest to feel his skin beneath. Behind her, Gesane could see that Guy had also fallen asleep in the guest hammock across the room where he had been staying since his return from the desert. 

“Your fever seems to be gone.”

“Why are we on the floor?” he asked.

“You were scared in your hammock,” she said as she combed back his mussed feathers with her fingers, “worked out alright for Harth.”

“Why do I remember...something important about Teba?”

“He’s Village Elder now, do you not remember declaring for him?”

“I thought that was a dream...did I manage to do it with some dignity?”

“You were very moving,” she assured him.

“I didn’t, did I?” he clarified, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

“I’ve seen worse.”

Gesane kept his eyes closed while she continued to delicately tidy his feathers and braids. She shouldn’t be doing this for him anymore, he thought, not when they had ended it—though they had never exactly followed the Rito order of things.

“Gesane,” she whispered, “this scared me.”

“I don’t even remember very much.”

“I just...maybe this is a bad time to bring it up...I worried I’d lose you.”

Gesane glanced up and reached out a shaky wing to straighten a golden-red lock that hung loose of its usual bindings. 

“Not this time,” he told her.

He did remember something about Teba; he had told him something important.

“Ariane,” he said, still playing with the fine strands of her hair, “might we marry?”

Ariane laughed a little and took his hand.

“What...like right away? Goddess, you Rito always move so quickly.”

“Perhaps not right away...perhaps just someday.”

Ariane leaned over to brush her nose against his beak before she kissed a trail to his forehead.

“Someday,” she smiled.

oOo

Mimo lay on his back, alone on that grassy hill where he breathed in the salty sea air and watched the gulls circle overhead day after day. He wondered when his loneliness would finally break his resolve and he would give in and return home...or at least to the mainland.

He felt slightly dizzy as the sun heated his pitch-dark feathers and wondered if it was time that he drifted down to the cluster of rocks below and to spear himself a few porgies. He shifted a little on the grass, his limbs too heavy with the emptiness of exile that he never seemed to outgrow. He closed his eyes against the bright rays and let the wind ruffle his feathers.

“Cela, I told you there was nothing here!”

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that a Rito?”

The sound of wings and squabbling roused Mimo from his torpor and he opened his eyes to see three unfamiliar faces above him.

“By the Goddess!” he whispered as he sat up and faced them.

Around him stood three Rito. Two bore strong resemblance to seabirds with bright blue eyes, long thin beaks and steely blue-grey plumage. The third put Mimo in mind of Kass, with a similar heavy beak, dark green feathers and blue-tipped wings.

“If he is Rito he is the strangest I’ve ever seen,” said one of the seabirds.

Mimo reached out desperately to grasp the green Rito’s wing and they all fluffed their feathers at his sudden movement.

“Where did you come from?” Mimo whispered desperately, still clutching the beautiful wing.

“You first,” said the second blue-grey Rito.

“Rito Village in Tabantha.”

The three Rito looked at each other blankly.

“Near the Hebra mountain range,” he specified.

“Never hear of it,” said the first Rito, “might you point it out?”

“It’s very far from here, north and west,” he said as he pointed to the mainland.

“We thought no one remained in those lands save for Hylians.”

“Many peoples live there,” said Mimo, “now tell me, where do you call home?”

“I’ll show you,” said the green Rito, gesturing that he should follow her.

She held his wing and walked him to the top of the hill beside the shrine. Mimo shaded his eyes against the sunlight sparkling off the sea as she pointed out to the volcanic islands wreathed in mist.

“Beyond those islands,” she said.

“How many of you?” Mimo asked.

“Hundreds. Descendants of those who escaped the catastrophe on that accursed land,” she said glancing back at Hyrule.

As Mimo stared out at the masses beyond the edge of the known world, he was powerless to stop the tears which fell from his eyes. The Rito in his village were not the only ones left in this world—he was no longer alone. The green Rito reached out her wing and brushed the tears from his face, her expression soft.

“Would you like to see it?” she asked.

Mimo nodded vigorously.

“Very much,” he managed to choke.

“Come with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chronological end of the multi-chapter fics in the Rito Chronicles. Bet you didn’t expect to see Mimo again, did you? :D The Rito at the end are modelled after cormorants and a great green macaw.
> 
> To those who have left comments and kudos along the way, thank you so very much! If you’re happy with the ending and don’t know what to say, just leave me a smile to let me know :) (or don’t it doesn’t matter, but it would mean a lot to me to know that you made it to the end).


End file.
